New Patterns & Old Fr : 06 Playing Dangerous Games
by kalinda001
Summary: New Patterns & Old Fr Series. #6. After all that has been done to him, Avon's mind begins to break down. The psychostrategist tries to manipulate Servalan. The crew of the Justice gets more embroiled in the goings on in Sector 10.
1. Chapter 1

**New Patterns and Old Friends: Playing Dangerous Games**

Chapter One

Avon sat in his cell waiting for the sedatives so that he could sleep. He was confused. After the interrogators had worked him over since he returned from Residence One, things had changed drastically. His body was being allowed to heal. He was still experiencing pain from the knee implant, but it was not as bad as it normally was. The cycle of treatments seemed to have ended; and although there was punishment for rebellion, there had been no trips to the interrogation rooms.

It made him nervous.

He wondered if it was another tactic to lull him into a false sense of security so that it would be more devastating when it was all taken away. It was a tactic the interrogators were very capable of using.

As Avon waited, his mind went back to the three days in Servalan's bedroom. The memories were not unpleasant, which in itself was disturbing.

_They had just made love after returning from their walk out in the gardens of Residence One. Avon had to admit, it had not just been about the sex this time or him giving into her demands._

_It had been passionate, as it always was between them; but this time the anger and hatred, which was always between them as well, seemed to have retreated to a distance. They had clung to each other like two people drowning in the dark would hold onto each other, when there was nothing else._

_Afterwards as they rested she had said, "You really are better with a little more strength."_

_"I didn't know I was disappointing before." As they talked, Avon was confused at what had just transpired between them._

_She chuckled. "Not that; but you have more stamina now and that's always better."_

_"You mean better for you." There was a faint scowl on his otherwise expressionless face. He was determined to remember that she was his enemy._

_She smiled and reached across to touch his cheek. "I don't believe it wasn't better for you as well."_

_"It's hard to enjoy anything when I'm in constant pain. Do you ever plan to have them turn the implant off?" _

_"You know I can't do that; it's meant to be a reminder. It should be at a manageable level though; I turned it down when you arrived."_

_"So kind of you," he said with a sarcastic tone. He would never forget the pain of the past three years._

_"We aim to please." Her hand slid slowly down his body to the deep cuts she had made with the laser dagger weeks ago._

_"Ow."_

_"Sorry. Does it still hurt?"_

_"Not much."_

_"I'm sorry all of this was necessary."_

_"Stop apologizing to me Servalan. I do not believe you and you're very bad at it."_

_"Must there always be pain between us?" she asked._

_"What do you mean us?" he asked sarcastically. Yes, I will always remember the pain._

_Servalan sighed._

_Must there always be pain between us? _Avon wondered what had been going through Servalan's mind when she asked him that.

_Are you getting soft Servalan?

* * *

_

Jenna, Cally and Delik Gell were discussing the best way to infiltrate Kam Ellis's headquarters. They were in a workshop at the back of Delik's music shop.

Delik was Jenna's contact who had sold them out to Ellis Reve's uncle but was now helping the two women. Having incriminating holovids of him with the governor's wife, appropriated from Myler Reve, had assured his reluctant cooperation.

When one looked up the Athol definition of "charming rogue", Delik would probably have fit the bill. He was good looking without being really handsome and had a boyish charm. The most distinctive thing about him was a silky, gravelly voice which melted the hearts of most women. When he spoke, it didn't matter what he was saying, knees went weak. It kept getting him into all kinds of trouble. It was as hard for women to say 'no' to him as it was for him to say 'no' to women in general.

He had been staring intermittently at Cally since Jenna had called her in. Cally was feeling distinctly uncomfortable. The Auron girl had not had much experience with charming rogues and was sure she didn't like this one.

"Is there a reason you keep staring at me?" asked Cally.

"I have an idea," he told her.

"Leave her alone Delik," Jenna warned the charming rogue. The ex-smuggler had lots of experience with charming rogues and was not so easily influenced by Delik's charms. He found it quite a challenge, to Jenna's frequent annoyance.

"You have a suspicious mind Jenna," said Delik.

"I know you," she said unyielding.

"Have I not always been helpful in the past?"

"Yes. Very helpful and very well-paid on each occasion."

"You're a hard woman."

"Where you're concerned, I have to be."

"I'm hurt."

Cally noticed that Delik's voice made it easy to sympathize with him.

"Stop playing games, Delik," Jenna told him. "And tell us how you're going to get Cally into Kam's headquarters."

"Well, before I was rudely interrupted and had my reputation maligned, I was going to say I had an idea how that could be achieved."

Delik looked at Cally again. He was definitely interested in something.

* * *

Argus approached Borel Reve's castle.

_Who on earth lives in a castle in this day and age? _He thought as he looked up at the parapets and high walls. It was quite impressive and reminded him of historical records of old Earth strategic fortifications he had studied while at the Federation military Academy.

_More than a bit ostentatious_. Argus wasn't sure whether he should start running now.

* * *

"Is this really necessary?" Cally asked Delik. She was trying to pull down the edges of the skimpy outfit she had just put on. Her tone clearly indicated her opinion that she didn't think it was required. She was dressed in a frilly barmaid's uniform; a barmaid whose function seemed to be more decorative than functional. Despite Delik's boast that he could tell a woman's size just by looking at her, she was sure he had gotten her size wrong. The Auron girl didn't look alien, but she definitely felt alien in this outfit.

At this moment, in the back of his music shop, this reluctant helper seemed to be enjoying himself much more than Cally thought he had a right to. He was trying to help her find appropriate 'infiltration' attire. She was sure that no barmaids dressed like this were ever found in any political headquarters. She was very naïve.

"I thought the intention was not to attract attention," said Cally reasonably.

"Trust me," he said reassuringly as he looked her over with a critical eye.

"When you say that, it usually means you're up to something," said Jenna.

"Now Jenna, don't tell me you're still sore about Myler Reve," he said, in a light tone as if it was a minor transgression he was sure she would forgive him for. He was used to women forgiving him for just about anything.

"I don't call being chained in a cellar something I can get over in a hurry," said Jenna.

"I explained about that," he said to her in that gravelly voice. "And I'm making it up to you the best way I can."

"Only because you don't have a choice," she pointed out.

"You're a tough woman to please Jenna," he told her.

The man was so smooth and determinedly charming that Jenna wanted to smack him, preferably with the heavy rolling pin she had hit him with earlier.

"Now explain to us why Cally has to dress up like this; and it had better be a good reason." She did not bother asking the other interesting question, such as why he had a revealing barmaid's uniform so handily available in his music shop in the first place; she was afraid that she already knew the answer.

* * *

Vila was angry at himself and angry at ORAC; but most of all, he was angry with Argus.

The rebel leader had promised to not lock the liquor dispenser codes. He had kept his word but instead, he had changed the codes such that the only thing being dispensed by the alcohol dispensers was a weak .1 percent of something which was little more than flavoured water.

Argus had left Vila with 2 decanters full of alcohol to tide him over until the next rendezvous in eight days time. Vila had planned that the alcohol would last the eight days. He had even marked out each bottle in order to limit himself to an equal portion each day.

Vila knew why Argus had done it and the more he thought about it the more insulted he had become.

"Who does he think he is?" said Vila angrily to no one in particular as he sat on a couch on the flight deck. "He wasn't there when Dayna died or Soolin! He didn't see Blake fall! He wasn't shot in the back! No one tried to throw him out the airlock!"

At that moment, Vila's back decided to act up again. It pained him every so often; more when he was under great stress.

"If I need a drink every now and then, for medicinal purposes, what business is it of his?"

_You're a fool, Vila_. For some reason Vila could swear he could hear Avon's voice. He shook his head, trying to get the voice out of his head. Avon had abandoned them and was working with the enemy. He should not be hearing Avon's voice.

There were three days left before the preset rendezvous. Unfortunately there was no alcohol left. Vila didn't actually remember drinking the rest of it. That scared him and he was trying not to think about it.

"ORAC, be a good computer and talk to me."

"I am busy," said the computer. It always sounded annoyed and preoccupied now.

If ORAC had been human, one would say that it was becoming increasingly frustrated. All of its efforts to follow Avon's directives had not produced any results. It was as if someone knew exactly what it would do and had blocked all possible avenues. Without a cypher machine, ORAC was severely hampered. But one thing about computers, they never gave up unless directed to.

_Even ORAC has abandoned me,_ thought Vila, feeling very sorry for himself.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Argus approached the guards at the gates; they wore black and green fatigues and carried heavy phaser rifles. There was no sign of slackness and they stood alert. Argus looked but saw no security monitors; but he knew they were somewhere. He could feel them watching him.

Other than the castle part, it appeared that everything else may prove less unconventional.

Argus decided against saying, "Take me to your leader" or any variation thereof; after what happened the last time.

This brought up memories of another set of soldiers who now lay buried in the grave he had dug. He had a great sadness but there was no guilt. They were soldiers, they had chosen to do their duty and he had made the only choice he could make.

The rebel leader strode up confidently but carefully, making no suspicious movements.

"I have a message for General Reve. For his ears only," said Argus.

"Who is the message from?" said the guard on the left. He was a burly man with a nose that had seen too many fights.

"This should tell him." Argus held up the ring which Olean Rane had given to him as an identifier. The guard took the ring and studied it for a few seconds. He then tapped a small square communicator unit which was in front of his left shoulder.

"A messenger wishes to see the General," the guard reported. He held the ring up.

Argus could still not see the security cameras but from the position of the guard's hand, he could guess where they were.

"Search him and send him in," an answering voice instructed.

Argus held up his hands as the guard made a brief but thorough search. The soldier obviously knew what he was doing. The rebel leader was starting to form an impression of Borel. One could tell a lot from the actions and attitudes of someone else's subordinates.

"You're not armed," the guard remarked.

"Do I need to be?" Argus asked.

The burly guard handed him back the ring and stood aside.

"You can go in. Someone will direct you once you're inside."

Argus went through the gate.

* * *

Once Argus entered the gate another set of guards searched him again, then two of them escorted him into the castle. Security was tight everywhere and armed soldiers were very visible. Inside the main building he was put through a particle scanner. They were all professionally polite and very serious.

_Something must have happened to warrant all of these security precautions_, thought Argus.

His guard escort led him deeper into the bowels of the castle until they reached a set of heavy double doors which were guarded by two sentries.

"Messenger to see the general," said one of his escorts.

"He's expected, go on in," said one of the sentries as he opened the door.

* * *

Argus walked into a huge command centre flanked by his two escorts. The medieval nature of the room was in full contrast to the vast array of communications equipment, vidscreens, and control panels. In at the centre of the room was a huge table. Floating above it was a large detailed holo-starmap. Clustered around the table, wearing the same black and green fatigues as all of the other soldiers he had encountered so far, were a group of older men who appeared to be in deep discussion.

Argus and the two escorts stopped short of the table and waited. No one appeared to pay any attention to them.

_Tactics?_ Wondered Argus. _It couldn't be a deliberate insult; they don't know who I am yet._

At that moment, a young man came in through a side door. He was also dressed in the same fatigues but everyone snapped to attention the instant he entered the room. He walked quickly and with confidence towards the table. Right on his heels, almost running to catch up were a man and woman, also wearing fatigues.

"Gentlemen, what have you got?" the young general asked the moment he got within earshot of the table. When he got closer, Argus saw that even though the man was young, the lines on his face and his manner made him seem much older. Borel had the strong jaw which characterized all the Reve men. He was of medium height and build and when he moved, he radiated a bright strength and power.

'Borel," the uniformed woman called the man's attention.

The young general looked towards her and she nodded her head in Argus's direction.

"Oh yes, the messenger. Almost forgot." He reached his hand towards the woman and she placed Olean Rane's ring into his hand.

"Rane has a message for me?" Borel asked as he turned the ring over in his fingers.

"It's for your ears only," replied Argus.

"He was always a secretive old bastard. Alright, come with me." Without waiting to see if Argus was coming, Borel turned on his heels and headed towards a side door. Argus followed after him. Neither of Argus's two escorts made any move to accompany him but the woman followed behind them.

All three entered a small office. The woman closed the door behind them.

Argus looked at the woman and then at Borel.

"It's for your ears only," he stressed to Borel. "No offense," he told the woman.

She looked at him without responding or any indication that she was going to move. Argus got the uncomfortable impression that she was trying to assess whether she should take him down or not.

"She's alright," said Borel. "What I hear, she hears. Besides she'd kill me if told her to leave. She's my bodyguard." The young general smiled at the slightly annoyed face the woman had made at his words. "And she's my beloved sister."

"I thought that the Overlord only had sons," said Argus.

"He only _talked_ about his sons," said the woman. There was no emotion in her voice; no bitterness, anger or recrimination. Only a statement of fact. She was not a beautiful woman but neither was she plain. She did not share the strong jaw of her brothers, but she had a strong and interesting face; a face that did not take any nonsense from anyone. Like her brother, she had a bright energy but it was much more subdued.

"Now now Reya" said her brother in a light tone, "our father was a brilliant man."

"Just not much of a father."

"Face it, you loved him even more than the rest of us," said Borel.

"Can we get back to business?" said Reya.

Borel's tone became serious, though there was still a light playful look on his face, "Sorry, I tend to get like this when people try to kill me."

"I'm not here to kill you," Argus assured him.

Reya laughed, "If we thought you were, you wouldn't have gotten this far."

"That explains the elaborate security precautions," said Argus.

"Yes, someone tried to kill me this morning," said Borel, almost cheerfully, "but thanks to my bodyguard here, he didn't even get close. Now what message do you have from my father's old chamberlain?"

"Rane sent me to help you. The name's Argus," Argus told him.

"What is a Federation commando officer doing working with Olean Rane?" asked Reya, surprising both of them with her question. "And don't tell me you're not one."

Argus looked at the woman with interest. _Will have to be careful of this woman._

"You always had a good eye Reya," said Borel, looking at Argus more carefully.

"I can smell Federation a mile away," said Reya. "And a killer."

"And the officer part?" asked Borel curiously, his eyes still appraising Argus.

Argus wondered if the woman could read his mind and if she knew about the incident in the woods. For some reason she made him feel uncomfortable.

"Do you both mind not discussing me as if I'm not in the room?" asked Argus.

Borel laughed, "Sorry that was rude. But I would like an answer to my sister's question."

The man's manner was still light but Argus got the impression that both brother and sister were listening intently to his answer. Argus thought it was better to tell the truth. He didn't know how good this woman was and how much she knew.

"She's right, I used to be a Federation commando officer but I left them. I work with the rebel alliance now."

"Why did you leave?" asked Borel.

"For personal reasons," said Argus. _Like developing a conscience._

"That still doesn't tell us why," said Reya, clearly not satisfied.

"That's all the reason you're going to get," replied Argus. The look on his face invited no further questions.

"It's good enough for me," said Borel. He clearly had no interest in pursuing it further.

"Not for me," pushed Reya.

"Rane trusts him and I trust Rane," said Borel.

Reya nodded and fell silent. She deferred to her brother.

"Now tell us why Rane is going to risk his neutrality to step into this conflict and what he thinks you can do to help me?"

"Your brother tried to put pressure on Rane by kidnapping Jenna Stannis."

"Ahhh. Big mistake," said Borel understanding.

"It's not like Ellis to make that kind of move. Not unless he feels he has something considerable to gain from it," said Reya. "That's why Rane sent you, isn't it? He doesn't want to be seen to be helping us. But he has a vested interest in Ellis not becoming Overlord."

Argus noted that they didn't even ask which brother.

"Yes," replied Argus. _Very perceptive. I really am going to have to be very careful around you._

"But I still don't see how an ex-Federation soldier can help us, even if you were with the elite commando force," said Borel.

"Can you show me the assassin?" asked Argus.

"Why?" asked Reya suspiciously.

"Just humour me," said Argus.

Reya was about to say something else but decided not to. Instead she turned to her brother, "Borel?"

"I don't see any harm," her brother replied.

"Alright come with me," she told Argus, "and don't get any ideas about going anywhere else." Her manner was brusque and contained all manner of warnings. Reya led the way out of the room.

_I really am not going to like you am I? _Thought Argus as he followed her out

Borel looked at the two of them curiously as they left.

* * *

Reya Reve led him to a cold cellar in the castle which had been converted into a makeshift room for the dead. The would-be assassin lay on a metal table. He wore the familiar black and green fatigues of Borel's men. Even though the man's face was badly bruised, Argus recognized him.

"Was this your doing?" asked Argus.

"No one hurts my brother," said Reya coldly. "You know the assassin, don't you?"

"No. I have seen him before though," said Argus. "He's one of Ellis's men."

"But he's wearing one of our uniforms," said Reya. "That would mean…"

"Yes. We have to get back to your brother," said Argus. There was a sense of calm urgency in his voice. "Now." Whenever there was danger, Argus always became deadly calm.

Reya immediately led the way back to the command centre.

* * *

"You have infiltrators in your midst and they're wearing your uniforms," Argus said to Borel the moment they came back into the command centre. Borel was gathered around the holomap discussing strategy with his generals.

That announcement instantly produced a flurry of activity.

"What do you mean?" "What's going one?" "Who is this?" "Where?"

Everyone spoke out at once.

Borel held his hand up for silence. They all shut up.

"What is this Reya?" Borel asked his sister.

"This one says he recognizes the assassin as one of Ellis's men," she replied.

"The man was wearing one of our uniforms," Borel said.

"If he was one of Ellis' men then there may be others," she told him.

"Do you believe him?" Borel asked.

Reya looked at Argus, trying to decide whether she believed this stranger or not. Her instincts told her that he could be trusted, but they also told her that he was a dangerous man. It was always best not to turn one's back on a dangerous man.

"In this, yes," she said guardedly. "If he really does work for Rane then he has good reason to tell us. If he works for Ellis then it would be stupid of him to tell us. He seems reasonably intelligent." She said this as if it was an equal possibility that he was the opposite.

"Thanks," said Argus sarcastically. He was finding this woman increasingly annoying and she seemed to be going out of her way to insult him. At her intense gaze, Argus almost felt naked.

"He's dangerous though. There's no doubt about that," she added. "It remains to be seen how dangerous." The look she gave Argus gave him the distinct impression that she didn't think he could possibly be dangerous to her.

"Do you always make it a habit of talking about people even when they're standing right in front of you?" Argus asked.

"Yes," she told him. Her eyes were unyielding and held a challenge.

Borel laughed. "I don't think she likes you my friend. Of course, she doesn't like most people so don't take it personally."

"I don't plan to," Argus told the young general. "Is she normally this disagreeable?"

"Usually."

"Do you both mind?" asked Reya when it seemed that her brother was beginning to side with the stranger.

Borel smiled. He had an infectious and mischievous smile and being in mortal personal danger always put him in a strange mood.

"And can you stop smiling? We have infiltrators in our midst, we need to deal with that," Reya chided her brother.

"You're right. What do you know of these infiltrators Argus?" Borel's tone and manner instantly became serious. As Argus told them of his encounter in the woods and Borel began to make plans, the rebel leader learned why Borel was respected by his men.


	3. Chapter 3

**New Patterns and Old Friends: Playing Dangerous Games**

Chapter Three

After the end of Avon's next work session, he was brought to interrogation room two. In some ways this made him feel better, it was something he was familiar with; but when he entered the room and saw Servalan and Sester waiting for him, he no longer felt better. The last time the two of them were in the same room with him, they had crushed him.

The guards brought him to a chair on the opposite side of the table from them and secured him to it. Avon waited as his two foes watched him.

"What do you want from me?" Avon asked when it was clear they were still not going to say anything. His face was an impassive mask.

"You're a worthy opponent Avon but we're at the endgame," replied Sester.

"Really? I thought the game was over; you got what you wanted," said Avon.

"We still don't have you," said Servalan.

Anger began to build in the analyst, it was clear that they were after something but they hadn't finished playing their games. He was so tired of giving them everything. With both of them here, the memories of what they had done to him together were still too fresh.

Avon pulled at the restraints securing him to the back of the chair and looked at her. "It certainly feels like you have."

"We only have your mind and your body," said Servalan.

_Yes, you know all about that don't you?_ He thought angrily. There were no thoughts of passion or gentleness now; there was only a cold anger. He had to hold onto that, it was the only way he could face both of them.

"You want my soul? I don't have one. Stop playing games Servalan and tell me what you want," Avon said, there was a faint anger in his voice and a tightness in his jaw.

_Did those three days not make a difference between us? _Servalan sighed.

Sester drew the analyst's attention, "Why are you doing this, Avon? You must know that you are nearing the end. How much longer do you think you will survive if you decide to keep playing this game?"

"Why don't you tell me? You have had this mapped out from the beginning, was there anything in your strategy which involved giving me a real choice?" It wasn't just a faint anger now; it was a faint hatred; even though his face still showed no emotion.

"So you know."

"About your progression of compromises? If I didn't know that by now, then your time would have been wasted on me."

"You think that now that you are aware, you can prevent it from happening?" Sester asked.

People trapped in a psych-strategy never knew that they were being manipulated until it was too late; and usually not even then. They had beaten Avon and forced him to build a security system which would keep him trapped forever; but they had to almost beat him to death before that had been possible.

The wider goal had always been to lead Avon into making increasingly more damaging compromises until in the end, there was no longer any point to keep denying them anything. Avon recognized this now. It was clear that he knew that what they did to him was not just because Servalan wanted to hurt him; although he had to also know that it was one of the reasons. There was a method to the cruelty and pain being inflicted on him.

_You truly are a worthy opponent Avon _thought Sester approvingly. It was always much more enjoyable beating an opponent who had the ability to do the kind of damage he knew Avon was capable of.

"The game is not over yet," replied Avon.

"Very true."

Sester smiled and continued, "Up until now, the goal was only to break you, but we have reached the point where we need to build beyond that. You need to be given a place where you can survive, but within a framework which is acceptable to us."

"Why bother? You only want me to live so that she can keep killing me." His tone was full of cynicism.

"Avon," Servalan called his attention. "I told you that I do regret what we had to do to you, but you left us no other choice. You wanted to escape and we could not allow that. If you cooperate now, we want to provide you a place where you can survive. The majority of the protocols will be suspended. Whether they will be used, will depend entirely on how well you cooperate. They will be used for punishment only, not to break you down."

"And if I do not cooperate?"

"Then there will be no mercy and you know exactly what we can do to you. But afterwards, if you choose to cooperate, then you can have the survival."

"So it is no longer an endgame, you are building me a cage." There was coldness in his voice.

Even though Avon had been a captive for almost three years, there had not been one day of those three years when he accepted his imprisonment. The only times he had stopped fighting them was when they had beaten him so badly that he couldn't fight. And now they wanted him to be a tame bird in a cage.

Avon addressed the psychostrategist. "You thought I would accept this? Your strategy told you this?" Avon asked contemptuously, the anger was very clear now in his voice, even if not on his face. He pulled against the cuffs securing him to the back of the chair.

Servalan turned her head and glanced briefly over at her partner.

_I told you that he would become more difficult as he grew stronger, _she thought, _he's so full of anger, _we _can't manage him this way._

Sester noted her brief movement in his direction; he could guess what she was thinking. _Be patient, Madame President_, he thought. He was glad he had dissuaded her from bringing the implant control; he knew she would have used it by now. With her it was always about control. _But you must admit he is back. _

There were two reasons why Sester had insisted that the two of them face Avon together; one was to gauge the level of his recovery, the other was to test Servalan.

From Avon's reaction to the both of them, Sester knew that he had not recovered yet. But he was in a much better state than he was a week ago. The desire to fight was there now, if not the ability.

"Avon, we are not here to manipulate you. If we wanted to do that, we would have done this a week ago, when you were at your weakest," Sester pointed out to him.

"Yes, you have my best interests at heart," said Avon cynically.

"I know you don't believe us right now, but we do," said Sester. "You will notice that the new guidelines have already begun. We are allowing your body to heal. Your work hours have been reduced. The cycle of treatments have stopped, and the punishment protocols are only at level two. The pain in your knee has also been decreased."

"We are giving you a choice Avon," said Servalan.

"Your choices always tend to trap me more." Avon said with a cold cynicism.

"But this time will be different Avon," she told him.

Sester knew that this was a lie but he was not about to point that out at this moment.

"Really?" Avon said with great sarcasm. He was a wise man not to believe her.

The psychostrategist continued, "Avon, we have never allowed you a way to stop the torture, even when you did what we wanted, but that will change with these new guidelines. If you cooperate, then you will not be tortured. Later, if you continue to behave, we may allow you more freedom, but that will come much later. You will have to prove to us your level of cooperation first."

_So this is a cage_, thought Avon.

"If you do not accept these guidelines, then you only need to fight us; then everything will be returned to the way it was."

Avon's enemies had set up a situation where the only way he could refuse what they were doing, was to fight them and to choose the torture. He wanted to fight, his will demanded it; but he knew that at this moment, he could not manage anything other than anger. He would fight, and they would crush him; he didn't think he could bear that again, not against the two of them; at least not yet.

They had already put him in the cage and they wanted him to accept it; how he hated them both. But he would be patient and accept his cage, for now.

There was still something they did not know about what he was capable of. He had to gain their trust and with these new guidelines that had become a real possibility.

* * *

Servalan and Sester discussed Avon's reaction after the analyst was returned to his cell.

"He's not going to accept it easily," said Servalan to her partner.

"No, he won't. He wouldn't be Avon if he did; but he knows that he can't fight both of us."

"That's why you insisted I be here?"

"Part of it. The other was to assure him that both of us will abide by the guidelines."

Servalan's eyes narrowed as she regarded the psychostrategist. "This was to constrain me as much as it was to control him?" she asked in a dangerous tone.

"If you want this to work Servalan, he had to see that you also agree. He had to know that you were serious about giving him a way to survive in his prison; even though he may not accept it yet. We had to make him understand that he has that option now. Isn't that what you wanted?"

Sester saw the conflict in her eyes. He sighed. They were both very stubborn. He realized the guidelines would not work, not yet. Avon could not help fighting and Servalan could not help wanting to hurt him.

Sester was not worried about Avon, by starting the guidelines, they had already placed him in his cage. Everytime he left it, the conditions would be such that he would have to retreat to it again. The longer he stayed in it, the harder it would be for him to get out again.

The key was Servalan. Unless she was able to curb her impulses concerning Avon, it would always get worse for him. She couldn't help herself.

Sester realized he may need to do some manipulation in order for it to work. Given Servalan's character, there was only one way. It would be a dangerous game, for Avon. Sester hoped the analyst would be able to survive it. And he hoped that Servalan would never find out what he was about to do.


	4. Chapter 4

**New Patterns and Old Friends: Playing Dangerous Games**

Chapter Four

Cally was working undercover in a bar, of sorts. It was called the Heavy Cruiser and catered to an enthusiastic clientele. The main source of entertainment was centred on a raised circular stage in the middle of the room. On it skimpily clad dancers of varying abilities were cheered on loudly. Compared to them, Cally was almost overdressed.

Cally was grateful that her job at the bar was more functional; she did not do dancing. She was already having enough trouble trying to remember the crash course on bar etiquette and the serving of alcoholic drinks Delik had given her.

The Auron girl tried to keep focussed on the real reason why she was there.

_"You said you wanted to find out about Kam Ellis. This is the best way," Delik had explained back at the music shop._

_"You are saying he frequents this establishment?" asked Cally._

_"Well, not exactly frequents. He practically lives there now," Delik replied._

_"Oh?" asked Jenna._

After having spent several hours trying to fend off drunken advances, Cally did not think much of the clientele at the bar. She did not have high hopes for anyone who practically lived there.

Not surprisingly, Delik was on friendly terms with most of the women who worked at the bar and was easily able to get Cally in as a new barmaid. He obstinately refused to tell Cally and Jenna why Kam Ellis frequented this place. His excuse was that it would be much better if Kam 'discovered' Cally for himself.

_"How do you know that he will?" Cally had asked. She wasn't sure about anything the charming rogue said. "I do not even know what he looks like."_

_"Believe me, he will notice you," Delik replied. "Once he does, then I will tell you. It will be more convincing if you don't know anything at this point."_

Carrying a heavy tray full of foaming beer mugs, Cally weaved her way through the crowded floor space. She dexterously avoided the other popular sport at the bar which appeared to involve slapping the behinds of the various serving staff as they passed by. At first she thought it was a form of punishment or perhaps a method of calling for attention. The first time it happened to her, she had nearly dislocated the shoulder of the perpetrator.

Doing grievous bodily harm to Delik when she saw him again was proving to be an appealing idea. He had not warned her about this aspect of bar etiquette. Although if he had told her, she probably would not have agreed to do this in the first place. Cally was beginning to think she had made a serious mistake agreeing to this cover.

As the night progressed, she was becoming aware of a sense of being watched.

* * *

The cell door opened and a man entered.

Avon was shocked at the familiar face but did not react; it was Professor Tarkson from his time with Argus's West Europ Dome rebel group.

"Avon."

"You work for the Federation."

"You could say that."

Avon was not surprised, there had always been something about the Professor which did not seem quite right; a dark secret always seemed to hang over him. The man hid it well, but Avon knew a lot about being secretive and he had recognized it in the professor. Avon never trusted instincts about people but it appeared his were right this time.

"I have nothing to say to you," he told the psychiatrist.

Servalan's voice over the cell's speaker activated his mind trigger.

"It's time to work Avon."

Tarkson was fascinated as he saw the conditioning begin to work. Although he had participated in the conditioning program, he had never been involved in using it.

Servalan continued to speak over the voicecomm; it was actually her over the speaker, not a recording.

"Avon, you will cooperate with Professor Tarkson and answer all of his questions. He is here to assess the damage to your mind."

"More of your help?" Avon asked sarcastically.

"Now stop being difficult, you know you do not have a choice. I will talk to you again later," the speaker became silent.

"Ask your questions. She is not going to let me alone until you do," Avon told the professor.

"Sorry, I forgot about the conditioning." Tarkson replied.

"What do you know about that?" asked Avon suspiciously.

The professor looked embarrassed. "I helped design it."

"I see," Avon commented acidly. "Get on with it."

"You told the President that you could not stop the memories. I want you to tell me about them."

With that began hours of detailed questions and various investigative mind and memory exercises.

* * *

The empty liquor bottles were staring at Vila accusingly.

_Don't be a fool, Vila, _Avon's voice admonished him. _Bottles are inanimate objects, not capable of thought._

"No!" Vila shouted out loud. He could almost hear an insult coming, he refused to listen; especially since the Avon-voice was not real and was only in his head. Vila was still monitoring things on the flight deck. He had made himself comfortable and was currently wearing a bathrobe and slippers; he had just taken a shower in his cabin.

"Stop haunting me, Avon! You're not even dead!" he shouted. Vila wondered if he was going mad.

He wanted a drink. _But do you really need one? Avon's voice asked him._

_Hey, wait a minute_, thought Vila. _Avon would never ask that._

_Shut up_, _Vila_. _Of course I wouldn't ask that. But as you have correctly pointed out, I am not really Avon. I am just the voice in your head._

_Then I really need a drink_, thought Vila. Hearing voices in his head was bad enough. Having them sound like Avon was infinitely worse.

* * *

After he had completed his examinations of Avon, Professor Tarkson reported to the President from a secure channel in Sester's office at the Special Detention Centre. The psychostrategist sat across the desk from him; they both addressed Servalan on the vidscreen.

Tarkson reported, "As Sester suspected, there is considerable damage. It is complex and goes deep. He was already experiencing problems when you captured him the first time. And everything which has been done to him since has intensified it and caused additional damage."

"What kind of damage are we talking about Professor?" Sester asked.

"The damage causes both the nightmares-which you have found useful-and the inability to prevent memories from surfacing. Normally the memories can be controlled by mental concentration. But the extent of damage to Avon's mind means he can no longer prevent them from intruding into his consciousness. The problem has been compounded because he is also suffering from mind fatigue. The overuse of the conditioning is wearing out his brain. I believe the loss of control will continue to advance and will eventually affect other areas. And if you continue to overwork him the deterioration will be much faster."

As she listened to the Professor's assessment, Servalan had become increasingly alarmed. She had witnessed Avon's distress as he experienced the loss of control over his mind. It had hurt her to see him like that.

"What can be done about this professor?" Servalan asked.

"Nothing can be done."

"What do you mean nothing? As you well know, we have advanced psychotherapy methods and drugs which can wipe memories and even entire personalities. And implant new memories and identities. Surely something can be done to fix this damage."

"Those methods are effective but crude. It is easier to wipe the slate clean than it is to repair this kind of damage. But in Avon's case it is impossible."

Servalan did not like the sounds of that. "What do you mean impossible?"

"It would take years of intensive therapy techniques and drugs to heal the damage. And it would have to start with the removal of the conditioning. And am I correct in my assumption, that you never want him to recover enough, that the nightmares will no longer be a tool for you to control him?"

"You are correct."

"Then nothing can be done. Everything which has been done to his mind has been to control him. And you are unwilling to lose these controls. Unfortunately it is these which are causing the most damage."

"This is not acceptable professor." Servalan was angry. Her face had a deadly calm.

"Controlling his every waking moment and never allowing him time for himself has inadvertantly served to put a check on the problem. But his condition will soon advance to the point where this will no longer work. Right now it is only in a relaxed state that the problem arises. Eventually it will happen all the time. And ultimately it will drive him into madness. Then he will no longer be able to distinguish reality from memory."

"There must be something which can be done." She refused to accept that her asset would be lost to her.

Professor Tarkson hesitated and then said, "There is one thing. There is an experimental drug, similar to the ones you are currently using to prevent the nightmares when he sleeps. It will help him to maintain control but once you start using it, he will be dependent on it for the rest of his life."

"I am not concerned about that."

_No you wouldn't be, _Tarkson thought. He felt sorry for this man whose life was nothing more than a tool to be used. It was clear they had no interest in healing him, not if it meant that they couldn't control him. Tarkson was afraid of the Federation President and the more he interacted with her, the more he was resolved never to end up like Avon.

"This loss of control, has it already extended to other areas?" asked Sester.

"He is weak right now so it would extend to other areas. The most likely area is that of emotional control. Normally his emotions are deeply buried. He rarely lets them surface. But he will likely find it difficult to prevent strong emotions from surfacing."

_This may be useful_, thought Sester.

"Thank you Professor Tarkson," said Servalan, "you have proven to be useful once again. Give your reports and details of the drug to Sester."

"Of course. My pleasure Madame President."

"Remember that your involvement here is protected by a security ban."

"Of course Madame President, no one will hear anything from me."

"How is your family?"

"They are fine. It's kind of you to ask." The good professor looked nervous.

"You are dismissed Professor."

"Thank you Madame President."

After the professor left, the psychostrategist commented,"That was not very subtle, the solicitude about his family."

"It was not meant to be. Your suspicions were correct about the damage."

"There were indications. You still do not appear happy even though we can regulate the damage."

"We must not lose him Sester."

"Of course not Madame President. I will continue to monitor him closely. Do you want him told?"

"The control will be greater if he is told and he must be wondering about the results of Professor Tarkson's examinations. What is he doing now?"

"He's back in the lab, working on the advanced anti-detector screen. You may want to tell him yourself," Sester suggested.

"Very well. Have him brought to me tonight. Now I want to talk about the situation in Sector Ten."

_That was too easy_, thought Sester as Servalan changed the subject.


	5. Chapter 5

**New Patterns and Old Friends: Playing Dangerous Games**

Chapter Five

Since Argus discovered that the man who had tried to assassinate General Borel was one of Ellis's men, it had been a busy couple of days. Borel's men were very efficient in scouring the castle. Every person was checked and double-checked and extra security precautions laid. They had not found another infiltrator.

Argus had followed Reya around, giving help wherever needed. He had a growing admiration for the woman's ability but she confused him. Her manner towards him still caused a great deal of annoyance. She seemed to go out of her way to insult him at every turn.

On the other hand, Argus and the young general had formed an easy working relationship. He had noticed that in all military things, the man was a brilliant strategist and had an intuitive ability to spot weaknesses in other people's strategies. In non-military areas though, his sister helped to provide a balance. They made a formidable and strange team.

"You don't like following my sister around do you?" asked Borel as they sat in the young general's office.

"I wouldn't mind if she didn't go out of her way, to make me feel like I'm there to do her bidding," said an annoyed Argus.

Borel laughed. "Actually I've never seen her put up with someone for so long."

"Put up with…?"

"She usually prefers working alone."

Argus had a sarcastic comment but refrained from saying it.

"We need to find that other group you saw," said Borel. "How would you like to do some hunting? Reya said that your commando experience makes you better than any of my men at that."

"That's surprising," said Argus.

"We don't have any hunter units. At least none with your skill."

"No. I mean, that your sister would say that," Argus clarified.

"She knows ability when she sees it."

"She has a funny way of showing it."

Borel laughed again. "Don't let her fool you. She knows exactly what you're capable of."

From the young general's words, Argus was beginning to have a suspicion.

"You've been watching me," said Argus. "You wanted to know if I could be trusted and what my real abilities were."

Borel grinned, "She was right, you are quick."

"So her rudeness was an act to test me? And having me follow her around." _So saying that you trusted me because you trusted Rane was not quite true. Either that or one of you is very cautious. My guess is it's her._

"Oh no, she is _normally_ like that. Everything else was the test."

"Well, I obviously passed otherwise you wouldn't be asking me to do this."

"Correct. You can pick your own team. Ask Reya for help with that. She's coming with you but you'll be in charge."

"It's good to be in operation again," remarked Argus. _Even if she is coming along._

Argus had been feeling useless and had wondered what good Olean Rane had thought he could do by being here. The young general had his own troups and obviously did not need his help in that area. And even though Argus had been able to give them information about the infiltrators, they hadn't seemed to need him for anything else. But he was finally going to be able to put his expertise to good use.

"I need to send a message to Jenna Stannis at Olean Rane's headquarters," said Argus, "I would like to use your long-range communications array." It was approaching the time to contact Vila.

"That's fine. Just let Reya know. She'll arrange it for you."

* * *

"Let's talk for awhile," Servalan told Avon later that night. Her head was propped up by one elbow as she contemplated him, with her other hand she was exploring his body. Despite his resistance, she could feel him responding to her touch. She loved driving him crazy.

Servalan had wondered how things would work between them with the new guidelines. She had been unsure whether Avon would meet her demands without the threat of punishment hanging over him. She need not have worried.

Tonight had been like the three days they had spent together. For some reason, in her bedroom, things had changed between them. They were still enemies, just as they were outside, but in here there was an unspoken understanding.

"You really are better with more strength and stamina," she teased him.

"Yes, we've established that," Avon said dryly.

She smiled and continued to play with his body.

He gave a low moan then grabbed her hand. "If you want to talk, you have to stop that."

"Let go Avon," she commanded sharply, he released her hand. "Don't ever do that again." She warned him as she continued playing with him.

"It's always about control, isn't it?" He tried to block out the effect she was having on him; but it was hard. She was very good.

"What else? I want to talk about Professor Tarkson's assessment of your condition."

He was focussed now; she could feel him stop responding to her. Her hand arrested its movements and rested against his chest.

"He said that the damage to your mind is deep and complex; and unfortunately progressive. Even if I allowed you the time and the therapy required to heal the damage, he said that it would take years. And in the end it still might not be possible to restore you fully. He also said that your loss of control over the memories may also extend to other areas."

"I see. So my condition will continue to deteriorate?" He had been afraid of this.

"I'm afraid so." She started caressing him again, but this time it was not to arouse him.

"Don't," he told her. This time he rested his fingers lightly over hers. "What else?"

"Isn't that enough?"

"I know you Servalan. You would not have brought me here just to tell me that."

"There is an experimental drug. It will help your mind to maintain control over the memories."

"And the side effects?" He knew there was still more she hadn't told him.

"Once we start using it, you will be dependent on it for the rest of your life."

_It is always about power and control, isn't it? _Avon thought. Something began to build inside him.

"You mean dependent on you," he said in an accusatory tone.

"Yes. Unfortunately, it is the only option available."

"I wouldn't think that would be a problem for you," he said sarcastically.

"Not for me, no."

"And the point of telling me yourself is to gloat?"

"That is such an unattractive word."

"You do want to gloat."

She smiled. "Just a little. Now show me what else you can do with a little more strength."

Avon knew what he wanted to show her; take her by the throat and squeeze until he could feel the life leave her body, but instead he did what she demanded.

_The damage to your mind is irreversible and progressive_.

_Once we start using it, you will be dependent on it for the rest of your life._

_You mean dependent on you._

He was aware of a cold anger building inside him as the night progressed. At times it was difficult to prevent it from coming to the surface as he fulfilled her desires.

He was aware of his own weakness as he fought his impulses to destroy her.

_I cannot do this. _He could not afford to kill her. Not yet.

Sester had been right in his assessment that Avon had not yet recovered. Just as Avon was too weak to fight the headaches which accompanied the short-term use of the mind trigger, he could barely prevent the anger from controlling his actions. He was finding it increasingly more difficult.

_I cannot kill her, _he kept reminding himself.Butthere were other things he could do. Allowing him additional strength increased his options considerably. Avon found himself starting to manipulate Servalan's responses to him, driving her crazy as she had done with him earlier.

He immediately recognized that this was a mistake. Servalan controlled others; she did not react well to being controlled. His actions continued to be fueled by his anger. He fought to control himself but felt the control slipping away. His failure made the anger even worse. He felt her on the verge of losing control to him. Soon he would do something he would regret.

"No!" Avon cried out in anguish. He pushed Servalan away from him and sat up.

Servalan was shocked at his actions. "What's wrong?"

Ignoring her, Avon closed his eyes and tried to concentrate, struggling to contain his own uncharacteristic emotions. The loss of control scared him. His fists clenched at the strain; his head was bowed from the effort.

_I must maintain control._

Servalan had been very aware of Avon's growing anger and his struggle. It added an energy to his love making tonight which had made things very interesting; like playing with fire. It had excited her.

Professor Tarkson's warning had been correct. The loss of control was already spreading to others areas.

She could not blame Avon for his anger. He had been continually backed into a corner and had everything taken away from him; and now the realization that he depended on her even for his continued sanity must have been difficult to take.

Servalan could see the tension in his body. She wanted to reach out and touch him but she knew it would only make it worse for him.

She repeated gently, "What's wrong Avon?"

"I can't do this, not tonight," he told her, his tone anguished. He knew that with the state of his mind, there was only one way to maintain control. He hated it, but he had to do it.

_It is the only way, _he tried to convince himself. _I cannot afford to make this mistake._

The uncharacteristic emotion in his voice shocked Servalan. "Why Avon?"

"Give me the drug now," he told her in a strained voice.


	6. Chapter 6

**New Patterns and Old Friends: Playing Dangerous Games**

Chapter Six

Cally was becoming increasingly frustrated and paranoid. She could not shake off the feeling that she was being watched but she had not been able to identify the watcher. It had been three days since she had started working here and there was no indication that Kam Ellis was anywhere near this bar, never mind practically living in it. She was growing very tired of having to constantly protect herself from the unwanted attentions of men in various stages of drunkeness. She had almost decided that she needed to consult with Jenna and Delik again to replan their strategy when the bar owner Alain, pulled her aside. Alain was a bearded man who was always sharply dressed and emaculately groomed.

"Take this tray up to the tenth floor," Alain told her, handing her a tray full of food and mugs of beer.

"The tenth floor?" Cally repeated in a confused voice. There were only nine floors in the building. At least, the lifts only went up to nine.

"Take the lift in my office."

_Oh. _Something was happening now.

* * *

"You killed all of them?" Reya asked Argus. They were standing in the clearing in the woods where Argus had killed Ellis Reve's soldiers and buried them. "You didn't even think to leave one of them alive so you could question them?"

"I was busy trying not to get killed," said Argus. Inwardly though, he was kicking himself. _I should have thought of that. _

This woman always went out of her way to make him feel inadequate and the fact that she was right this time didn't make things any better.

She looked at him with a critical eye.

_Why is it that she always makes me feel like I'm naked? _Argus was very annoyed. It was bad enough that being in this clearing brought back unpleasant memories.

"You're the hunter. What do you propose we do?" asked the annoying woman.

Argus and Reya had decided to come out on this hunting mission alone. Hunting was much better done in small groups. A hand-picked group back at the castle was waiting for their signal once Argus found the infiltrators.

Actually Argus had preferred to hunt alone but Reya insisted on coming. He had to stop himself from saying that he did not need a babysitter. It was clear she still wasn't sure about him.

"The other group went off in air-cars so there is no way to track them on the ground."

"Wonderful. Then why did you drag us out here?" she asked.

"The group I killed had communications equipment. They reported in everyday. We just need to dig it up and get the frequency. That way you can have your people keep a tracer on the frequency and track it the next time it is used."

Reya was about to say that at least it wasn't a total waste of their time but refrained. She had been trying hard not to laugh; she knew that this man was becoming increasingly frustrated with her attitude towards him. She didn't want to push him too far.

Argus walked over the ground, looking intently for tracks. There was something he was looking for; something he didn't find. He went back towards Reya. She had been watching him as she sat on one of the fast air-cycles they had used to get here.

"Time to dig up the comm equipment," he told her.

She handed him the shovel.

Without a word, Argus took it and began to dig. He doubted if she was going to volunteer to help. The heat of the day soon forced him to remove his jacket and shirt; as he had done before when he first dug the grave. His back was to the annoying woman but he could feel her watching him.

Reya watched appreciatively as Argus kept digging. His back was strong and muscled; and rippled as he moved. He was built more like a dancer or an acrobat than a strongman. Well, perhaps a little more muscled than that but his movements had the same fluidity and grace. There was no wasted motion; only an economy of power. She had liked this man the moment she saw him but she would never let him know that. This kind of self-assured man could very easily overwhelm and did it without thinking about it; she was not about to let him do that to her. It had been fun playing with him but she knew she had to be careful; it was like playing with fire. She wished he would turn around; she wanted to see what the rest of him looked like.

At that moment, as if he had heard her thoughts, Argus straightened up and turned towards her.

"I forgot to tell you. I would keep an eye out for visitors," he told her.

_She's staring at me again_, he thought with annoyance. It was bad enough that he was half-naked now without his shirt and jacket.

"Why?"

"There are no traces that anyone has been here since I left," said Argus. That had been what he had been looking for before. "That means no one has come to see why they are no longer responding."

_I should have thought of that_, thought Reya. _I knew I was right to keep my distance. Even like this, you're too much of a distraction._

She nodded. Argus turned around and kept digging.

Reya set the perimeter sensor on her scout cycle and then pushed both cycles into the underbrush, concealing them.

"Here." Reya threw a water bottle to Argus.

Argus caught it deftly in one hand. He dropped the shovel, flipped the top on the bottle and drank thirstily. He could have sworn that she had thrown the bottle _at_ him, not to him. If he had been any slower, it would have hit him.

"I'm going to take a look around," Reya told him, "don't go anywhere."

* * *

"Vila." Jenna's voice sounded over the ship's comm system.

"Vila here. Is that you Jenna?" Vila had made it to the rendezvouz over Athol Prime with minutes to spare. He was ready.

"Yes. How have things been up there?"

"Nothing exciting. How are things down there?"

"Cally is undercover and Argus is off with Borel's group. I'm doing some coordinating with Rane."

"Argus isn't with you?" Vila asked with concern in his voice.

"No, he's not back. He reported in yesterday to say that he wouldn't be able to make the rendezvous. That's why you're getting me. He says to keep the _Justice_ concealed behind the moon for now and to set up a three-day rendezvous cycle."

"But…" Vila said. He was going to ask about the alcohol but decided against it. This was between him and Argus. He was resolved to get those dispenser codes from ORAC by any means. He refused to be outsmarted by a big-booted ex-Federation thug. He had had enough of that with Tarrant.

"Yes?"

"Nothing."

"Alright, we will communicate again in three days, same time. And one additional thing. Argus said to release the liquor code to you. He said it's the same as the last one, but backwards. Jenna out."

Vila stood frozen. He couldn't believe that Argus had released the dispenser code to him. He was sure it was a trick. _There'll probably be .2 percent of alcohol now, _he thought.

"Zen, go back to where we were before, behind the Athol moon. Standard by six."

"Confirmed," the computer replied.

Picking up ORAC, Vila went to the dining area.

"ORAC, the dispenser code is released. Six seven seven beta."

"Very well," said the computer unit irritably.

Vila filled a glass with the green liquid. He put it up to his nose and sniffed.

_Smells the same. _He steeled himself and took a sip. A big grin spread across his face.

"There is a message from Argus."

_Oh no. I knew this was too good to be true_, thought Vila.

"How can there be?" asked Vila.

"The message is part of protocol eighteen and was to be communicated with the release of the dispenser code," replied ORAC.

Vila was starting to hate the word protocol. _Alright, let's see what he's cooked up now._

"What is the message?"

"The message is in the form of a question. Argus said to ask when you finished the two bottles of alcohol he left for you in his cabin. Message ends."

Vila stood frozen again.

* * *

"Who are you?" That had been the first thing the man in the room had asked her the moment Cally entered the room.

When Cally found that the lift in Alain's office only went to one place, she realized that she must be getting closer to her goal.

_It is no wonder that I couldn't find out anything._

No one went into Alain's office except by invitation. She had never drawn enough attention to herself to warrant such notice. And Delik had been very insistent that she remain passive and allow the action to come to her.

When the lift doors opened, it was to a darkened room. Someone immediately took the full tray from her hands and someone ran a scanner wand over her from top to bottom. Before she could even act outraged, she was led to a chair in the middle of the room. It was setup like an interrogation. The darkness in the room was such that she could not make out the faces of the people in the room.

"I'm Cally," she told the questioning voice. Her voice was shaky and unsure. There was no harm in telling them her name. No one knew who she was. She tried to look suitably confused and frightened. At the edge of her consciousness she could feel that the atmosphere was one of suspicion, not threat.

"Who are you?" the man's voice asked again.

Cally expanded on her previous reply, "I'm one of the barmaids from downstairs. Boss Alain told me to bring food and drinks up. I'm sorry. Did I do something wrong?" She tried to use the vocabulary and speech patterns from some of the girls downstairs at the bar.

She looked around and nervously tugged down on the edges of her skimpy outfit. Cally could still not make out any faces.

"May I go now please?" she asked. "The boss will get mad at me if I don't go back downstairs." Cally hoped she was giving a good performance. She had never been involved in the theatrical arts back on Auron.

"Don't worry. No one is going to harm you," another voice reassured her. "Just answer the questions." This voice was kind and had a bass quality. It reminded her of someone.

"Alright," she replied, still looking suitably nervous.

"Who sent you here?" the first voice continued to ask questions. In contrast, this voice was gruff and meant business.

"Who sent me here?" she repeated the question as if the question confused her. "The boss sent me here with food and drinks. Who are you?"

The person she really wanted to ask that question of was the one with the kind bass voice; something told her that he was someone important. Perhaps he was the person she had been hoping to find.

_I have to remain passive for now. Cannot act too curious. They might get suspicious._

The gruff voice ignored her question. "I'm asking the questions. You're new here. Who sent you here to work at the bar?"

"No one did. I needed a job. A friend of mine knew one of the girls here. She put in a good word for me." The emotional atmosphere of the room had not changed; there was still no feeling of threat here.

_So far so good._

The questioning voice continued to question her, trying to find out more about her.

_It's good Delik set up a good background cover for me, _Cally thought.

She wondered how well the cover would hold if these people chose to check up on her story.

Before they had let her go, there was one final question which surprised her.

"Do you have a sister?"

Cally had many sisters; identical cloned twins, exactly like her. But they were all dead now, killed by the plague Servalan had unleashed on her planet. Cally knew that was not the source of their question.

She answered, "No. I'm an only child." She felt a pang of sorrow at how true that was now.


	7. Chapter 7

**New Patterns and Old Friends: Playing Dangerous Games**

Chapter Seven

Avon sat in his cell. He wasn't waiting for the medtech or either of his two enemies to appear. He was just sitting. Thinking. They had started giving him time alone after his work sessions. And now that they were no longer working him to the point of exhaustion, he had the energy to think.

Along with his daily regimen of drug injections, they had begun giving him the new one which helped him to maintain control over the memories; to prevent them from overwhelming his battered mind. He found that he still had to concentrate but at least it was manageable now.

There had been no recurrences of the inability to control emotions from surfacing. He was relieved but he hoped that it did not mean that he was dependent on the drugs for that as well. For a man who had always been emotionally controlled, the loss of that control struck at the core of who he was.

He suspected there were other things that Servalan had not told him about Professor Tarkson's assessment of his condition.

There was another thing which was troubling him about these drugs they were giving him; that was the horrible realization that he was dependent on some of them now and would be even when he finally regained his freedom. Without them, he would eventually slip into madness. But he could not think about that now.

_Whoever said ignorance is bliss never had my problems._

Looking around at his bleak, grey cell, Avon refused to accept that he would have to spend the rest of his life here; being used and having to cater to the whims of others in order not to be tortured. He was tired of continually having to lose ground to his two foes.

Avon knew that the psychostrategist would have guessed where his mind would be turning now, with the easing of the protocols and measure of freedom the new guidelines had given him. They would be expecting him to do something; and they would be ready for him. Servalan had already warned him. Any infraction or advantage taken of the new freedoms would result in swift and crushing punishment until he finally decided that it was better to cooperate.

Avon smiled inwardly. He recognized it for what it was. _Another form of conditioning._

He didn't dare smile outwardly; he knew he was being watched. The security cameras in his cell were always monitored. At any moment either Servalan or the psychostrategist could also be watching.

Outwardly he looked passive and tired. Almost despondent. It wasn't difficult in the depressing cell.

_Let's play a different game instead,_ he thought.

He was tired of only having the ability to react to what they did to him. It put him at a severe disadvantage. Avon knew that Sester had assessed that he could not face both of his enemies at the same time. That was why they had both been there in the interrogation room. Avon had to acknowledge that Sester was right. He couldn't. Not yet.

_You think that you have beaten me so badly that I cannot fight anymore, don't you? _

He would show them what they had bought by harnessing a dangerous mind.

_There are many ways to fight; many ways to play this game. Ways that even I can manage right now. Or have you forgotten that Sester. Everyone thinks that I am capable of doing anything in order to survive. They were right.

* * *

_

Servalan turned on the side vidscreen. She was still in her office at the Terran Govermental Headquarters. It had been another long day and it wasn't over yet. There was still one more meeting. Commissioner Loki from the Cooperation Project had just reported to her aide that he would be an hour late. There were problems with the scheduling computer at the Central Spaceport.

The vidscreen currently showed Avon sitting in his cell. Any other person would have found it exceedingly boring. The subject on the screen did not appear to be doing anything other than sitting with his knees drawn up. To be fair, there wasn't a whole lot he could do in the bare cell. Nonetheless, Servalan always found it fascinating watching him.

_It must be his rest period._

The new guidelines allowed him an hour of free time after his work sessions.

_That mind must be very busy thinking now_, she thought. _Sester will have to deal with that._

It had been three days since she had last sent for Avon; that had been the day he had asked for the drug. She remembered having Corry contact Professor Tarkson; waking him up in the middle of the night. The drug had been delivered within the hour.

Servalan remembered the blank expression on Avon's face as she injected the drug into his neck. She had let him sleep afterwards; she didn't have the heart to demand anything else from him.

She still remembered the strained voice and the anguished look on Avon's his face as he struggled to maintain control but couldn't. Servalan touched the screen. She missed him but she would have to wait for a few more weeks before she could call for him again. She was on her way off-planet in the early morning.

There was something which was bothering her about what happened that night; but she couldn't quite place her finger on it.

* * *

Psychostrategist Sester watched Avon on the vidscreen from his room. He was making adjustments to his psychstrategy for the analyst. Things had become much more complex now that he had decided to add Servalan into his equations.

When Professor Tarkson had told them that Avon's loss of control had extended to the inability to stop strong emotions from surfacing, Sester had made a calculated gamble. When he made the suggestion to Servalan afterwards, he knew that something might happen; he was hoping it would. He knew that Avon would not kill her but there had been a strong possibility that Avon would make a serious error in their relationship. Sester had needed Avon to make that mistake.

Avon had surprised him again. He had fought and even though he did not win against the flood of emotions, he had still found a way around the problem. He had asked for the drug. The very symbol of his increased dependence on them. Sester had not expected that.

_You are up to something Avon_, thought Sester.

The psychostrategist had been watching Avon carefully for days. He had been expecting something to happen but the analyst was cooperating in everything.

He should not have been.

Past experience had told them that the stronger Avon became, the more difficult he would become. They had planned to allow him a certain amount of rebellion but then to crush him without mercy. This was to be repeated until he judged it better to cooperate. For this, they didn't need any compromises from him; they only needed him to be less difficult.

But Avon wasn't doing anything; and by doing that he was fighting them more effectively than any active rebellion.

_You're an excellent opponent, Avon. You are actually forcing a different game. You cannot manage an active resistance right now so you are using a passive one. But two can play that game. There are many ways to allow you freedom. Some more unpleasant than others._

At first he thought it would be Servalan who would be the harder one to manipulate. But it was becoming clear that she was confused about her relationship with Avon. It was a confusion caused by the three days she had spent with him at Residence One.

That was something which always hampered the psychostrategist's psych-mappings. He never knew what happened between Servalan and Avon when they were in her bedroom. It was clear that something significant had; something powerful enough to bring Avon back from the brink of severe depression, something which had enabled him to return to a semblance of the old Avon. A dangerous Avon; who now was being allowed to recover.

Sester smiled. It was like playing with a caged lion. The lion was wounded, but a wounded animal was even more dangerous.

* * *

Argus retrieved the communications equipment and noted the frequency. Placing it carefully over the side, he began filling in the hole again. After he finished, he drank the rest of the water in the bottle and put his shirt and jacket back on. He looked around. There was still no sign of Reya.

Other than sounds of his own digging and the ambient noises from the woods, he had not heard anything else while he worked. He was beginning to worry. It had been over an hour since she had gone to scout around. The air-cycles were still where she had concealed them.

_Maybe she's in trouble. _It was possible that she had run into Ellis Reve's men.


	8. Chapter 8

**New Patterns and Old Friends: Playing Dangerous Games**

Chapter Eight

Argus studied the ground carefully. Reya had moved northwards from the clearing. Her tracks were slight but he was able to follow them. She was obviously adept at moving over the ground with the least amount of disturbance. Not a common skill these days.

_Not bad, _he thought approvingly. He wondered why she would have had this skill.

He moved swiftly; following the tracks and barely leaving any of his own. A quarter of a mile on he stopped. Reya had dropped to the ground suddenly, lying flat. She had seen or heard something.

Argus looked at the perimeter sensor he had removed from the air cycle. He had judged it better to move on foot and avoid the noise of the cycle. The sensor indicated no movement.

That did not mean that there wasn't anything out there. These types of sensors were of limited use. They could be defeated by someone lying fairly still. Argus's commando groups had often lain still for days in order to set a trap; when they knew that these types of sensors were being relied upon by the enemy. The rebel leader doubted if Ellis's groups would have this ability but it was always safer not to assume anything in this kind of situation.

Argus cast about carefully in the direction she had been watching. It did not take long to locate. Just as he had guessed, a group had been moving through here. They had made no attempt to conceal their movements. No subtlety here. They had been heading towards the clearing but for some reason had changed their minds. From the tracks, it was not apparent why. All he knew was that they had stopped for awhile and then had reversed direction and went quickly back the way they came. Reya had waited until they were almost out of sight and then got up and followed them.

Argus followed the group's tracks and kept an eye on Reya's. Again he was impressed with her skill. Unlike the group they were both following, she had great subtlety.

_Now if only you were capable of that in person_, thought Argus.

* * *

Vila was sitting on the flight deck of the _Justice_. Literally. He was seated on the ground, staring at a full glass of green liquid on a low table. He had been like that for an hour. The thief had not had a drink since the contact with Jenna.

_Do you plan to do something? Or is this your substitute for useful action, _the Avon-voice asked him.

The voice had left him alone while he sat staring but now it was back.

_Of all the voices, do you have to sound like Avon?_ Vila thought.

_Annoying isn't it? _Remarked the Avon-voice smugly.

_I refuse to listen if you insist on sounding like Avon._

No more sounds came from the voice.

_Good, _thought Vila.

It was eerily quiet. Too quiet.

_Avon?

* * *

_

Argus stopped. The tracks he had been following ended. There had been vehicles here and the group had boarded them.

_Troop transports of some kind. Like Borel's, _noted Argus as he studied the imprint of the vehicles. He went back to look for Reya's tracks. _Now where did she go?_

At that moment instinct caused him to whirl around and put up his hands. Someone had launched themselves at him. They both fell to the ground, their bodies rolling, each trying to gain the upper hand. This person was good but he finally managed to trap one of the hands and rolled on top.

"Do you mind getting off me?" Reya told him.

Argus let go of her hand as if it burnt him. He immediately rolled off and stood up. Reya got up and brushed the dirt off her fatigues.

"You're not bad," she remarked critically. She hadn't been able to resist.

"Another test?" asked Argus sarcastically. Actually he thought that she wasn't bad either.

"No. Just some fun," she replied.

"You're crazy. You know that? I could have killed you."

"You're too good for that."

Argus looked at her suspiciously. "You knew I would follow?"

"Of course. You're very predictable."

Argus scowled at her. At least the insult was familiar territory. A compliment from her made him uneasy.

"Well since you know everything, do you know where the group went? I'm assuming these were the infiltrators we were looking for?"

"You assume correctly. We have to get back to the cycles. We'll talk on the way."

* * *

Cally waved her electronic key across the door panel of her apartment. Delik had set this place up for her as part of her cover. The door slid open and she entered. The automatic lights came on and the door slid closed behind her.

She was shocked to find Delik and Jenna sitting inside waiting for her.

"I thought you said we should have as little contact as possible," she remarked to Jenna.

"They're watching you. Not your apartment," Jenna told her.

Cally had been aware that she had been followed ever since the day the bar owner had sent her up to the tenth floor.

"Now are you finally going to tell us what's going on?" Jenna asked Delik.

"You've been up to the tenth floor?" Delik asked Cally.

"Yes."

She proceeded to tell them of her strange encounter.

"That was Kam. The one with the bass voice," Delik told her. "I told you he would notice you." He was sounding very pleased with himself.

"You still haven't told us why you were so sure he would," Jenna reminded him.

"Oh didn't I say? Kam was involved with a girl from this bar. Or I should say, he still is. But no one has seen her in months. And he's practically lived there since she disappeared."

_I can hear a coincidence coming_, thought Jenna. "Don't tell me. She looks just like Cally."

"Well, not exactly. Cally has some similar features. Especially around the eyes."

"That must be why they asked me if I had a sister," Cally remarked.

"They asked you that?" Jenna asked.

"That was their last question before they let me go."

"So where do we go from here?" Jenna asked Delik.

"Just continue what you've been doing Cally. He's going to contact you again. He won't be able to help himself."

"Have you considered that he may have killed her?" Cally asked.

"Actually, no. He was in love with her. It drove his father crazy."

_That must have been what Rane had been talking about, _thought Jenna.

"What was her name?" asked Cally.

"It's best that you don't know that," he told her.

"Again?"

"You've given a good performance so far," Delik said reassuringly. His voice was like silk. "Oh by the way, they checked those references I gave you as a cover story."

Cally looked alarmed.

"But don't worry. I made sure they were real references. So you're clear."

"I'm impressed," said Jenna.

"Does that mean I'm growing on you?" he asked.

"Don't push your luck."

"When will you ever stop thinking the worst of me?"

"I'll let you know. You seem to keep forgetting the incident that landed me and Cally chained in the cellar."

Delik sighed. "So who's getting the bed?"

"What?"

"Well, we can't leave until after Cally leaves. Remember? They're following her."

She had forgotten that.

"That's easy," said Cally. "I will make a trip out to the food market. That way they will follow me and you can go after I leave the apartment."

Delik looked very disappointed.


	9. Chapter 9

**New Patterns and Old Friends: Playing Dangerous Games**

Chapter Nine

The Federation President was in her cabin aboard her official presidential craft. She had just woken up. The space cruiser would be arriving at their destination in a couple of hours.

Servalan always turned on the vidscreen with the feed from Avon's cell as she prepared for the day. As she watched, a medtech entered his cell. It was time for the analyst to wake up as well. His routine was very different from hers. She watched as the medtech gave him an injection to wake him up. Avon gasped in response as the drug took effect. After a few moments, the medtech said loudly, "Get up!"

Avon's body began to stir and he rolled slowly towards the voice. He opened his eyes and brought his hands up to block the harsh light. Avon continued rolling and pushed himself up; sitting on the edge of the bed. He pulled down the zipper of his coveralls and slipped it off his shoulders, peeling it down to his waist. It was not easy given that his hands were shackled but he was very familiar with this routine. He had learned early on that unless he did this, they would not give him the injection for his back.

The medtech gave him an examination and then proceeded to give him his daily injections. Avon sat impassively throughout the procedure; answering any inquiries regarding his health without emotion. Avon pulled his coveralls back on as the medtech left and the guards entered his cell. They would take him to the shower facilities before they brought him to the lab to work.

Servalan smiled as they led him out. She loved starting the day knowing that they were both working towards her goals.

He was still limping from the pain in his knee. For him it would always be a constant reminder of her.

The Federation President had been struggling to understand her own feelings towards Avon since the three days she had spent working on him. She constantly found herself wanting to see him, to touch him. The anguish he felt when he realized he was losing his mind had hurt her deeply as well.

She was angry at herself. Since Don Keller, she had resolved never to let a man affect her that deeply again. Men had failed her all her life. They always promised but in the end they abandoned her, betrayed her, dismissed or tried to use her.

But she had to admit, Avon never lied to her. That's one thing she appreciated about the analyst. She always knew where she stood with him. They were enemies and they always would be.

He was under her power now; because of that she could feel safe in their relationship. He would always hate being under her power as much as she enjoyed having power over him. That she could trust.

Servalan knew that Sester wanted to curb her impulses to hurt Avon; but the psychostrategist did not understand; the pain was her expression of power over Avon, without it she could not trust him.

* * *

"Take this up to the tenth floor," the bar owner Alain told Cally, indicating a tray on the bar. "Bring the tray back down when it's finished."

_So Delik was right again, _thought Cally as she took the tray and headed towards Alain's office.

This time when the lift doors opened onto the tenth floor, the room was not dark. Cally saw that it was a spacious and comfortable apartment. There were two men. One was seated at a desk working in front of a vidscreen. One stood guard by the lift door. The guard ran a scanner wand over her before allowing her to enter further into the room.

"Alright go on in," the guard told her.

Cally entered the room and approached the man at the desk.

"Where would you like this, sir?" Cally asked.

"Just put it down here," the man told her, indicating a cleared spot on the desk. This was the bass voice. _This must be Kam Reve._

Cally did as directed. She noted that the vidscreen had information on troop movements and troop strengths. _Interesting. I thought Olean Rane said you were not doing anything with your military units._ She turned to go after she put the tray down.

"Where are you going?" the man asked, looking up at her. Cally saw that he had a strong jaw and expressive eyes. His voice was not unkind when he asked her the question. As she would discover, his voice was capable of great hardness, but never with her.

Standing directly in front of his desk, Cally could sense an aura of frustration about him and a great sadness.

_Odd._

For some reason, her impressions from him were very powerful. She didn't normally feel it this strong from non-Aurons and especially not from ones she did not have any relationship with.

"I'm going back downstairs," she answered.

"Didn't Alain tell you to bring the tray back down when I'm done?"

"Yes. But I thought I would come back for it," she explained.

"Stay here until I'm done. Then you can bring the tray back down," he told her. "Don't worry Cally, nothing will happen to you here," he added to reassure her.

"Sit over there until I'm finished." He indicated the set of couches at the far side of the room.

Cally went to sit down on the couch, facing the desk so that she could watch him. She picked up a vidzine unit from the table and began scrolling through the various articles.

The man ate distractedly while he worked. At times various people reported to him via the vidscreen. She was too far from the desk to hear what was being said.

There was no question this man was a leader. There was a bright energy to him even when he was seated. His eyes were intelligent. Even though she couldn't hear what was being said, Cally got the impression he was trying to convince people of something.

Sometimes she caught him looking at her when he thought her attention was on the vidzine. Delik had been right about his interest in her.

The only thing of note during this entire encounter was one of the vidscreen calls. Cally immediately noticed the tension as he took the call. Even from this distance, she could feel his coiled anger as he listened to the person on the other end. Cally wished she could see the screen, or at least hear the voice. Kam did not say much during this call. There was only an angry acknowledgement at the end before he turned off the screen. He sat for a few moments, staring at the blank screen.

_It's more than just anger_, thought Cally. She was sensing something else but wasn't quite sure what it was.

When he finished his meal, he motioned her over. "You can take it away. Thank you Cally."

He was very polite. Cally took the tray and went back down in the lift.

For the next few days, the same routine was followed. Alain sent her up with a tray, Ellis would eat while she sat on the couch and then she would bring the tray back down. Ellis did not speak to her except to thank her.

There were no more calls which caused the same kind of reaction as that first time. But the undercurrent of anger and frustration was always there, and something she now recognized as a sense of being trapped.

* * *

Argus and Reya were lying side-by-side, faced down; looking down from the top of a ridge. They were observing using distance viewers.

"Are these the same men?" whispered Argus.

"Yes," she whispered back.

Below them were a large number of troops and equipment. They appeared to be getting ready for something. Argus and Reya were observing another group which was just approaching from the north, not far from where they lay.

"What is this place?" asked Argus.

"Borel is getting ready to send some of his troups out to the battle zone in quadrant three. This is one of the main embarkation points for one of the strike forces."

After returning to their air-cycles, Reya had led the way. On the way she had told Argus about the communication the group had received which caused them to abandon their original plans to check out the clearing in the woods. She had heard the coordinates to their new destination and recognized the location. Reya knew all manner of short cuts so they had managed to make it to the ridge overlooking the embarkation point, well ahead of Ellis Reve's infiltrators.

Using the communicator on the aircycles, Reya had sent for their hand-picked group. Together Argus and Reya had situated the group at key points along the perimeter and come up with a strategy to cause the minimum of disruption to the assembling strike force. Their hand-picked group was now waiting for their command.

_You really are very good_, thought Argus. Quick, decisive and intelligent. He was finding that he enjoyed working with her.

Argus whispered into his communicator, "Leader two to attack units, targets will be in range in five minutes. Remember, I want them taken out with the minimum of disruption."

Each unit replied with their acknowledgement.

"What do you want to do now?" asked Reya. As commanders, they only needed to stand back and direct the action of their units below. Argus had never been one of those kinds of leaders.

"Are you up for some discreet exercise?" he asked.

She grinned. _I knew you would understand_, thought Reya.

* * *

The operation to neutralize the infiltrators was an unqualified success. The hand-picked units, under Argus and Reya's direction were able to isolate the infiltration group before they realized that they had been identified. When they realized it, it was already too late. The battle was over within minutes.

Most of the infiltrators were taken, relatively intact. The hand-picked units suffered no casualties and only sustained a couple of minor injuries.

Argus and Reya burst into Borel's command centre. Both were flush with excitement.

"I don't even have to ask, do I?" said Borel, looking at the grinning pair.

"Are we that obvious?" asked Argus.

"Only if you're not blind," said Reya sarcastically. Working with someone so obviously talented had been exhilarating but she remembered why she had to keep her distance.

She reported to Borel, "We got all of them. They're being put in the holding cells for now. We'll question them later."

"Excellent," remarked the young general. "Do you think there may be other groups?"

"This one," Reya inclined her head towards Argus, "says it's most likely why we've been having problems with some of our groups."

Argus looked at her. She was deliberately being rude again. He was puzzled by her attitude. _Are we at this again? _He didn't understand.

"Is that what you think, Argus?" Borel addressed him.

Argus was still staring at Reya. She was carefully not looking at him.

"Argus?" Borel repeated.

Argus turned his attention to the young general, "It's hard to know for sure but it is highly likely. We should get a better picture once we interrogate the ones in the holding cell."

"How would you like to do some more hunting?" Borel asked him.

"I'm at your disposal," Argus agreed.

He would have suggested it even if the young general had not; for many reasons. The primary reason was because he was committed to this course of action after having promised Olean Rane. But he now had an additional reason. He found he had a need to understand this woman whom he respected greatly but who confounded him to no end.

When they worked together during a battle, they had an instant rapport. They could feel each other's joy in the action. But on any other level, she couldn't seem to stand him.

* * *

It was the end of another day and Avon was lying on the sleep platform waiting for the sedatives to work. Everyday was the same now. Not even a trip to Residence One to break the monotony. It was a mind-numbing sameness.

They had been increasing the hours of free time they gave him after the work sessions. Avon found that those hours were like torture for him. He was being driven mad with boredom.

There had been no talks with either Sester or Servalan in over two weeks. He never thought that he would miss the forced conversation sessions. They were his only form of human contact. The Centre personnel who regulated his schedule treated him more like an object. He wanted to provoke them just to relieve the boredom; but he couldn't. The game he was playing required that he cooperate in everything.

He wondered what was preventing Servalan from asking for him. In her bedroom-away from the gray walls and harsh lights-even though she used him, it was the only place he still felt connected to the world.

In her bedroom was the only place he experienced pleasure of any kind. It was a physical pleasure only but, in three years of nothing but pain and torment, it was something he needed. One could only take misery for so long.

For the three days in her bedroom, Servalan had promised not to hurt him. And she had kept her word. For that he had been grateful. And even though she had used him, she had not tortured him since.

Avon was angry at himself. Those two may not treat him like an object, but they did treat him like a slave. He realized something was happening. The cage they had designed for him was working.

_No! You will not do this to me._

He deliberately brought up memories of his last session in her bedroom. Memories of the loss of control; of his own anger and hatred; of feeling like he had no choice except to ask for the drug which would make him dependent forever.

_I will never forget._


	10. Chapter 10

**New Patterns and Old Friends: Playing Dangerous Games**

Chapter Ten

Psychostrategist Tace was reporting to senior psychostrategist Sester via vidscreen. Tace was one of three strategists assigned to the situation in Sector Ten. He was currently manipulating Ellis Reve; helping him to gain control over the sector. Tace was a gray-haired man with an arched nose reminiscent of a long dead empire.

"You are sure?" asked Sester. Ellis Reve had become much more powerful than they were helping him to be. This was not in Federation interests. Putting him in power but limiting that power to what they gave him was supposed to keep him in line.

"I have done three castings," he told Sester. "Regardless of how I arrange the pieces, there appears to be an unaccounted for factor. Something powerful."

"And you have no indication what that is?"

"None of the undercover agents with him report anything unusual. There is also something else. Ellis has reported that one of his infiltration groups has disappeared."

Sester's mind instantly grasped the implications. "That points to another unaccounted for factor?"

"Yes."

"Does this jeopardize the President's timeline?"

"Not as yet. But we may need to step in to make sure we can control Ellis Reve afterwards."

"You were thinking of the new virus?"

"It is not very subtle, I know. The indications are that this new factor is very powerful. And if we do not find out what it is soon, we may have no choice."

"Find another solution," Sester told him.

Psychostrategists rarely reverted to things which were not subtle. To do so would almost be an admission of defeat.

"Very well. I am just giving you warning that we may need to. Tace out."

Sester did not need to tell the man to keep him informed. Psychostrategists never needed to say the obvious to each other. Sester made a note to arrange a meeting with the Federation President when she returned from her trip.

The psychostrategist's mind went to Avon. The use of the techno-virus against Avon had been very subtle. It had been a complex mind-game from the very beginning.

It still was.

Sester turned on the vidscreen and adjusted it to the feed from Avon's cell. The analyst was sleeping. He was facing the wall and he was in a semi-curled position.

_I should be sleeping too_, thought Sester.

He knew that the increased hours of free time were driving the analyst crazy. Sester had calculated it very carefully. A mind like Avon's could not stand having nothing to do; could not stand the total lack of stimulation. Even without it turned on, the conditioning would have increased this to an unbearable need. Sester had deliberately not sought out the analyst for conversations and he had asked Servalan to do the same. The Centre personnel tasked to work on Avon had all been carefully briefed. There was to be absolutely no deviation from his routine.

_As long as you play this game, you will play it for me, _thought Sester.

It was a good thing that the Federation President was off-planet now on a visit to the outer worlds. He doubted if she could have resisted not having Avon brought to her for so long.

Since Avon had not made the mistake Sester had been hoping he would make, the psychostrategist was taking the opposite approach.

_Withdrawal will be good for both of you. _

Sester knew that it would not decrease their needs, only intensify them. He smiled and turned off the vidscreen.

* * *

_When did you finish those two bottles, Vila? _No matter how many times he asked himself that, Vila couldn't remember. He could remember starting on the bottles but he could not remember finishing them.

_Typical, said the Avon-voice. _The voice was back. Vila was relieved. In the quiet and solitude of the empty flight deck, even a voice in his head had become welcome.

"What do you mean?" asked Vila.

_Guess._

"You mean that I don't remember?"

_Correct._

"I don't get it." _I thought you were supposed to sound like Avon, not ORAC,_ thought Vila.

_You accused me of being a machine once, or is that something you have also forgotten, said the Avon-voice._

"I wasn't talking to you."

_Well, it is difficult to determine that. Since I am only the voice in your head._

_It's too bad I can't dump you out the airlock_, thought Vila.

"That time I was talking to you," said Vila.

_You wish me to leave again?_

"No." Vila blurted out. "I want you to explain to my why you said it was typical."

_You have always had an infinite capacity for self-delusion, the Avon-voice explained cynically._

"This is not helping, Avon."

_You do not remember finishing the alcohol._

"No."

_You do not remember finishing the alcohol._

"You said that already."

_You do not remember…you do not remember…you do not remember… _The voice began echoing in his head.

"Stop it!"

_Stop what? The Avon-voice asked._

"That echo." The echo continued.

_I am not the cause of the echo._

"What do you mean you're not? It's your voice!" accused Vila.

_It is your head, _the Avon-voice said reasonably.

"Shut up, Avon," Vila said angrily.

The Avon-voice went away again. The echo remained.

"Why me?"

* * *

The next time Alain sent Cally up with a tray for the tenth floor, there were two servings on the tray.

_He must have a guest_, thought Cally.

There was no guest when she arrived on the tenth floor. Just Kam and the ever-present guard.

_The guest must be coming later._

Cally put the tray on the cleared area on the desk and headed towards the couches as she normally did.

"Have you had lunch?" Kam asked her.

Cally turned around. Except to thank her for the tray, Kam had never spoken to her before.

"I get my rest period after I return your tray," Cally told him.

"Pull up a chair," he told her.

_Something is finally happening_, thought Cally.

There was already a chair to the side of the desk. Cally picked it up and set it near the desk.

"Please, sit down," he said to her. He was always polite with her.

Cally sat. She looked at the man who she had been observing for the past week. He looked tired and there was always an air of tension about him. There were dark circles under his eyes. She had been noticing the increasing anger and frustration emanating from him as the week had progressed. There was also something which she had missed at first, there was a deep sense of being alone. She got the distinct impression that he felt something was missing but there was no indication what that was.

The vidscreen calls had become fewer and fewer and he seemed to be endlessly planning.

_Futilely planning_, thought Cally. That was also an impression she was getting.

"This is for you," he told her as he took items from the tray and placed them in front of her.

"I don't know if I should," Cally told him nervously.

"Are you afraid of me, Cally?" he asked.

"I don't know," she replied, surprised by his question.

He gave a brief smile. "You are a cautious woman. And a good actor."

"I don't know what you mean, sir. I am not an actor," Cally said carefully.

"You want people to think that you're like one of the girls downstairs, but you're not. You are much more intelligent than any of them. But you pretend not to be."

Cally almost breathed a sigh of relief but refrained from doing so.

"Sometimes, it is not advantageous to be a woman with intelligence," she said simply.

Cally had been noticing that, as she worked down in the bar. The culture of the bar was not one which respected women. Idolizing their physical attributes was not the same as respect. She hoped that this was not an indication of Athol society in general.

"You sound so much like her too," Kam said reflectively. Even though he was looking at her, Cally got the impression that he was seeing someone else.

_He must be referring to the woman who disappeared, _she thought.

"Sir?"

"Nothing. Share a meal with me, Cally."

As they ate and talked, Cally got a better sense of the man.

Her first impressions of him were verified. He was polite and highly intelligent. There was a bright energy to him which came across in passion about whatever topic he was discussing.

After they had finished eating, Cally asked, "Now that we have shared a meal, will you tell me your name?"

The man looked startled. "I had forgotten," he said, "I haven't told you my name yet."

"No."

"You might not want to know."

"Are you a dangerous man?" she asked.

"It depends on who you talk to," he said wryly. "My name is Kameron Reve."

"You're…," Cally reacted suitably shocked.

"Yes, I am the Overlord's son."

"I didn't know. I'm sorry." Cally looked like she wanted to run. She hoped that this was the correct response.

"I told you that you might not want to know."

"What do you want from me, sir?" she replied, still reacting with nervousness and a tinge of fear.

Kam sighed. "Nothing. You may go, Cally."

Cally hastily put the various items back on the tray. Picking up the tray she turned to go.

"Would you share a meal with me again tomorrow?" Kam asked her.

Cally looked at him. She wasn't sure but there seemed to be a lessening of the frustration and anger emanating from him.

"If you want me to."

"But what do you want, Cally?"

She decided a little directness at this point would not be amiss.

"Tell me why first and I will give you my answer."

He smiled. _It is much better when you do not hide your intelligence, _he thought.

"Share a meal with me tomorrow and I will tell you."

Cally hesitated and then nodded. "Alright."

"Tomorrow then, Cally."


	11. Chapter 11

**New Patterns and Old Friends: Playing Dangerous Games**

Chapter Eleven

Sester read the reports from the tech minders. Avon was progressing well on the anti-detector screen. He had asked for additional resources for his experiments. The minders indicated there were no dangers in allowing him the additional items. Sester added his approval for the ordering of the materials.

Sester turned on the vidscreen on his desk. The screen showed Avon's cell again. The analyst was being given three hours of free time after his work sessions now.

Avon was pacing his cell restlessly even though it clearly caused him pain to walk.

Sester smiled. Servalan was due to arrive back on Earth tomorrow.

_This will be interesting_, the psychostrategist thought.

He brought up the report from the three psychostrategists currently working in Sector Ten. They had been tracking the additional unknown factor. In the immediate timeframe, it was proving to be a disruptive influence on their respective strategies; specifically to psychostrategist Tace, who was supporting Ellis, and Vorshell, who was undermining Borel. Several undercover agents had disappeared without warning. Borel was threatening to be an effective force again. The six month timeline which the Federation President had given them was in danger. This new force appeared to have skills which they had not yet seen in this region.

Psychostrategists did not like disruptive influences they did not control.

* * *

Argus and Reya were having an argument. Borel was having fun watching the two of them. Blood had not yet been spilled; but that may only have been because there were witnesses.

"Don't patronize me," Reya said to Argus. Her voice was low and had a cold anger.

Borel knew that tone of voice from his sister. He had been on the receiving end of it before. It was not a good tone to be at the wrong end of.

"I am not trying to patronize you," Argus said. His voice was also low.

_Be careful, my friend. Or she will eat you for breakfast, and have bones left over_, Borel thought. He had learned long ago that having an argument with someone as intelligent and as capable of damage as his sister was, was asking for trouble. The young general realized that perhaps he should step in and play referee but stepping between these two may not be a safe thing to do. Besides, he was having fun being an innocent bystander.

Borel had been watching the relationship developing between his sister and Argus over the past weeks. It had been fascinating. He could see their frustration with each other and their fascination. Even though Reya never stopped insulting him and Argus never let her get away with anything, they were constantly together; even when they didn't need to be.

Operation-wise, they were a formidable team. Together they had neutralized over half a dozen threats in the space of four weeks; some of which would have been very damaging. Borel was beginning to regain control of many of his military units.

In addition to their original hand-picked group, Borel had also assigned them a small fleet of his most heavily armed pursuit ships.

"What you did was dangerous," said Argus.

"And you were being too cautious," said Reya. Her tone clearly equated 'too cautious' with a lack of courage; which was highly unfair when applied to Argus. She knew that.

But Argus had countered her command to take their ships into the war zone in pursuit of a group of Ellis's ships. The ships had been disrupting Borel's supply lanes for months and had been masquerading as Borel's escort fighters.

Reya had been very angry at having her orders countermanded. No one had ever dared to do that to her before.

Reya had always been known for daring and luck; she had never lost.

"We had three ships, they had six," said Argus.

"We could have taken them," said Reya. "We've done it before."

"Yes, but they were heading into dangerous space. They were probably leading us into a trap. They broke off their attack when they had the tactical advantage. There was no reason for them to do that."

"We don't know that."

"And we don't know that they weren't." Argus refused to give her any quarter.

"How did your commando units ever achieve the successes you claimed if you're not willing to take risks? Did you have help?" she asked.

Argus bristled at her accusation.

"You have no idea what you're talking about," his voice was getting dangerously colder and lower by the minute. "I take _calculated_ risks. I have never lost."

"And neither have I," she countered. _You should have just trusted me._

"I was not about to risk our units on your recklessness. It was not worth the risk. We had already identified the threat."

That made her even angrier.

"And was it a calculated risk when you killed those defenseless civilians on Zircaster?" Her words were like weapons, designed to cause as much damage as possible. "And you _ran away_ before they could court martial you for it."

Reya instantly wished she could take back what she had just said. But he had made her so angry that she wanted to hurt him. She did not take well to having her orders countermanded.

Reya had her security people check Argus's background the first day he had arrived with a message from Olean Rane. She had known Argus's history from the beginning.

It had also been reported to her that the Federation's account of what happened on Zircaster may not have been entirely accurate. She had always wanted to ask Argus about it but their relationship precluded that kind of closeness.

After having worked with Argus over the past month, she had come to know his character well; and she respected him a great deal. She could not believe the Federation's claims about the crimes committed by the rogue military units, particularly not Argus's commando units. She could not believe that he would have been capable of what they had accused him of.

"You do _not_ know what you are talking about," said Argus, pronouncing each word slowly. The tone of each word conveyed a dangerous warning. Argus was angry at her for bringing this up; but he was even angrier at himself. The mention of Zircaster had brought up memories he had not thought about since the incident in the woods. Along with it came the familiar feelings of guilt which were never far away.

_I'm sorry_. Reya wanted to say that to him. _I never meant to bring it up. Forget I said it._

Neither one of them would ever apologize to the other; neither of them would back down. They both had a great deal of pride.

Borel could almost see the wall rising higher between them.

Reya and Argus had both stopped talking. The air was so frigid between them now that only the most foolhardy would have stepped in between them.

It was surprising but there was no hatred. There was only a great deal of anger; though anyone who had just witnessed the confrontation between them would have thought they had just become mortal enemies.

Borel had watched with horror as the previously entertaining argument had rapidly deteriorated to almost the point of no return. It had been like watching two battle cruisers slowly moving towards each other on a collision course; each refusing to move out of the way of the other; even after they crashed.

The young general knew he had to do something. The teaming of his sister and Argus had proven to be an invaluable force that he refused to lose. If they had not neutralized so much of Ellis's infiltration strategy, Borel knew that his days as an effective force against his brother would have been numbered.

One was his sister. The other was someone he was beginning to consider a friend. He did not want to see either of them like this.

"I will not bother you with my unwanted presence then. I will leave as soon as I can arrange transport," said Argus.

"Fine."

"Stop it! Both of you," Borel ordered them. He almost wanted to tell them to go to their rooms and cool off.

Of the three of them, he was the youngest. But he felt like the adult between two bickering children; children who were in the process of tearing each other apart. He knew it was the strong feelings between the two of them which had caused this explosion of anger and damaging words.

It was already too late to tell them to stop; before they said something they would both regret. Borel still hoped to salvage the situation. The only way was to force them to face the truth about each other. He applied his brilliant tactical mind to the problem.

First he signalled to the sentries at the door. There were sentries inside the room as well as outside now. It had been part of the new security precautions.

"Leave us. And lock the door from the outside. Do not let anyone out without my permission."

One had to remember that Borel was first and foremost a _military_ tactician; and a man.

"Yes, sir." Both sentries departed.

"What are you doing, Borel?" said Reya. The cold anger was now directed at her brother.

"Both of you will stay and fix this or I will not let you leave this room," Borel told them. His voice had the quality of hard steel. He was a general; he expected obedience. Even his sister deferred to him once he had made a decision; regardless of whether she agreed or not.

"You cannot order me," Argus said. "I am not one of your men." Argus's cold voice was also directed at him now.

Borel suddenly felt outnumbered. _This is not starting out well. _

He needed them focussed on each other, not on him.

"Look. Both of you. I have been watching you drive each other crazy for the past month. I don't know what is really going on between the two of you. I know you will only tell me to mind my own business. And fair enough. But I do know that when you work together, you are the most effective and dangerous team I have ever seen. You have both enabled me to stay in the battle against Ellis. I will not let you destroy this team just because the two of you refuse to admit how you feel about each other. I am going to leave the two of you alone now. When you have resolved things, then I will let you out."

Borel did exactly as he had threatened. He left them alone.

* * *

Argus and Reya were not looking at each other. Borel's speech had left them both rebellious and embarrassed.

Now that they had cooled down, they did not know how to face each other. The words they had thrown at each other lay as a barrier between them. They stood in silence, each buried in their own thoughts, unsure of what to do next.

"Do you really want to leave?" Reya broke the silence. Her voice was quiet.

Argus had an instant answer; but he didn't know that he wanted to admit it to her, or to himself. He was never one to be easy on anyone though, least of all himself.

"No," he replied, also in a quiet voice.

"Do you think he's right? Have we been fooling ourselves?" she asked. _Borel always did know me better than anyone else. But he can't be right about this._

"No. He's wrong," replied Argus. _He has to be wrong._

"Of course. If it were true, we would both know. Wouldn't we?"

"Yes, we would. But he is right about something. We do make a good team."

"Yes, we do," agreed Reya reluctantly.

"It would be a shame to break up that team."

"Yes, it would. My brother needs both of us."

"We will never mention this again," Argus offered.

"Agreed. We will never speak of it again. We are professionals. I can work with you, even if I don't like you."

"And you do nothing but annoy me. But as you said, we are professionals."

It is amazing how well two very determined and intelligent people can deceive themselves once they set their minds to it.


	12. Chapter 12

**New Patterns and Old Friends: Playing Dangerous Games**

Chapter Twelve

Avon and Servalan were in the throes of passion. Again. They had been at it for hours. The two of them had barely been able to wait until the guards had left before they were all over each other; down in her office, in the lift and finally in her bedroom. Their need had become a consuming fire they could barely control.

Normally in this kind of physical exchange, Avon did her bidding. Any physical pleasure he derived was incidental to meeting her needs. Avon made love to her. It was never the other way around. Even the games she played with his body were not for him, they were solely for her amusement; an expression of her control over him.

But tonight had been very different.

Avon was exhausted and confused. They both were.

Afterwards, as they finally lay resting against each other Servalan said, "I should go away more often."

"Hmmm," was Avon's only reply. His eyes were closed. He was trying to rest. His breathing was slowly returning to normal.

Servalan reached over and touched his wrist. He was still wearing the manacles. In their eagerness, they had not even taken the time to remove them.

"We should probably take these off."

"Hmmm," Avon replied again.

Servalan got up and went to get the keys. Avon opened his eyes and watched her as she walked away.

Tonight, she had not used him. It had been a sharing of passion.

_You really are getting soft, Servalan, _he thought. He closed his eyes again.

Avon had no illusions that tonight would make any significant difference in their relationship. The passion had always existed between them ; and tonight they had both enjoyed that passion.

_If you insist on making this mistake, Servalan. I will use it._

Servalan returned with the keys, sat down beside him and removed the bracelets from his wrists. She put the restraints on the table beside the bed, along with the keys. Picking up one of his wrists, she lightly traced the bruises and marks made from the constant rubbing of the bracelets.

"Would you like to live without the restraints?" she asked him. Her voice was gentle.

"And what would I have to do?" he asked impassively. His eyes were still closed.

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" Avon instantly became suspicious. He opened his eyes and looked at her. "You do not believe in philanthropic gestures."

"No. That is true. But I do like to confuse you."

"So this is a game of control again?" he asked without emotion.

"Of course," Servalan replied.

Avon closed his eyes again.

She realized that he would never believe her if she had said otherwise. The last three years of torture and abuse would always be a terrible reminder for him.

_If only I could change that_, thought Servalan. Short of wiping his memories of the last three years, it was not possible. And they could not wipe them and still maintain their control over him.

"The Centre personnel report that you have been cooperating."

"Are they complaining again?" he asked in a tired voice. "Other than our agreements, I am doing everything you ask. I am no longer resisting. What else do you want from me?"

"Sester believes you are up to something."

"Assuming that is true. Are you going to torture me to find out what it is?"

"I do not want to." Servalan was surprised to discover that she really didn't. _When did that change? _she asked herself.

"So you are offering me more freedom if I tell you?"_ When did you stop wanting to hurt me? _Avon did not believe her.

"No. The torture I will leave up to Sester. He is very good at it. As you know," Servalan told him. She lightly rubbed the bruises on his wrist. "I want to show you what it could be like if you are willing to cooperate."

"You are trying to play good investigator, bad investigator?" he remarked. "It doesn't work on me."

"But you haven't played it against us."

He opened his eyes again and looked at her. "So regardless if I cooperate or not, you will not believe me. And you are going to hurt me again."

"Yes."

"Then your guidelines mean nothing. They do not protect me from anything. They were never meant to were they? They were another charade. Another cruel joke at my expense. You lied to me. As you always do. There is no safe place for me here. No matter how much I cooperate." There was no emotion in his voice. Just a cold statement of fact.

It hurt her that he seemed to be accepting this.

As he spoke, Servalan realized he was right. As long as there was a lack of trust between them, he would never be safe from her. Sester had been right all along when he had tried to push her to agree.

After what had transpired between her and Avon the last few sessions, she wanted the guidelines to work, for his sake. His pain and anguish when he realized that his mind was slipping out of his control had shocked her. She knew he hated her then; but something had made him stop himself from hurting her. She didn't know why.

He had hurt for so long, she wanted to give him some peace. For that, she was willing to try.

"No. You are wrong. As long as you stay within the guidelines, I will not hurt you. I will only release Sester to hurt you if you break them."

"It is dangerous to feel sympathy for me, Servalan," he warned her. He didn't know why he said that to her. "And I will not accept it."

"I know." She bent down to kiss him. After awhile she asked, "Are you sufficiently rested?"

"You are determined to wear me out, aren't you?"

"Is that a yes?"

* * *

The very next day Cally brought another tray up to the tenth floor. As the lift doors opened and the guard gave her a cursory sweep with the hand scanner, she noticed that the room had changed. There was a small dining table with two chairs and two place settings.

"Come in Cally," said Kam, rising from his desk. "Put the things over here." He indicated the new dining table.

Cally wasn't quite sure what to make of this new development.

"I thought we might be more comfortable," he told her.

The vidscreen buzzed. There was an incoming communication.

"Why don't you set up the food and I will join you in a moment," Kam told her.

Cally began transferring the items from the tray to the table.

Kam sat at his desk and took the call. Cally could tell from his instant increased tension and anger that whoever was at the other end, was the same person who had called before. Being situated closer to Kam's desk, she could hear snatches of conversation now.

"…if you hurt….I will…cooperate…you think…you had better…or I will…I want to see…I will back…"

It was snatches only but it was informative. Cally was beginning to get an idea what was happening here.

Kameron Reve turned off the vidscreen and came over to the table to join Cally.

"Please, sit." He indicated one of the chairs.

They ate in silence. The meal was simple but delicious. Cally waited for the quiet man to initiate the conversation. He appeared to be in deep thought. Cally felt him begin to calm down.

"You are very patient, Cally." He finally broke the silence.

"When I have to be," she replied guardedly. All of her senses were sharp.

"You want to know why I asked you to share a meal with me today," Kam began.

"Yes."

"You are also probably wondering why I have asked, that only you bring up my tray this past week."

"The question has crossed my mind."

_You are very cautious_, thought Kam. _And very different than when you first arrived here. _

"You remind me of someone," he began. "She was also very careful and much more intelligent than she let on."

_He is looking for a substitute? _Cally knew that this may put her in an important position but she refused to take advantage of someone else's grief. She knew that Jenna may not like this but she would not go against her own conscience.

_I have had enough grief of my own. I will not take advantage of someone else's._

She waited.

"Are you always this quiet, Cally?" Kameron Reve asked.

"When I have nothing to say," she replied.

"Or when you don't know what I'm after?" He gave her a brief smile. "You are a wise young woman."

"What are you after?" she asked.

"To be honest, I'm not sure," he told her.

She looked at him appraisingly. This was not the kind of admission she had been expecting.

"The woman you were speaking of earlier, who was she?"

He looked startled. For a moment she thought she had made a serious error asking the question so soon.

"She is someone I love. Very much," he said finally. He looked down at his plate.

Cally could feel the waves of sadness and loneliness emanating from him.

_So she is the source of these feelngs you have, _thought Cally.

There was also something else she noticed. _Love? Not loved?_

"I'm sorry, I should not be asking such a personal question."

"No. Don't be. That is why you are here after all. Because you remind me of her."

"I look like her?"

"A little. Around the eyes especially. But it's more in your character and attitude. You're very much alike. She is also very intelligent and like you, she feels a need to hide it. I am always aware of a lot going on underneath when I am with her. She had great depths. She has a shy smile that brightens up a room. And a wonderfully dry sense of humour."

The way he described her, it was like a man speaking about a lover. There was a distant look in his eyes. She could tell that he was seeing the woman in his mind. A slight smile played on his lips. The tension was gone from his face.

_You must love her very much. But what happened to her?_

"What was her name?" Cally asked.

Kam looked startled again as his mind returned from whatever pleasant memory he was recalling. He looked at Cally intently.

Cally realized that he wasn't seeing her.

He shook his head. "You were asking a question?" he asked her.

"Yes. What was her name? The woman you were just thinking about," she asked again.

"You can tell that?"

"Your voice and your face changes when you talk about her," she told him. "You seem happy."

He smiled wryly. "I must be miserable to be around normally." He suddenly had a thoughtful look on his face. "When you are around, I am less miserable."

"Because I remind you of her?"

"Yes. Would you mind keeping me company? I will ask Alain to free you from all your other duties. I know you don't like working downstairs."

"You have been watching me?"

"Yes, I'm sorry. I had to be sure you were not a spy. She didn't like working downstairs either. Don't worry, Cally. I have no ulterior motives. It is completely your choice."

"And what would this work entail?"

_Is this how it began with her? _Wondered Cally.She did not like where this was going.

"You are still not sure of me. There is no reason why you should be. But be assured, I expect nothing from you except what you have been doing so far. Serve me my meals and keep me company. If at any time you feel uncomfortable, let me know and you are free to go."

Her other sense was telling her that he was being sincere.

"Alright. I will try it," she agreed. "You were right, I do not like working downstairs."

Kam gave her a brief smile. "I will tell Alain that you are not to work downstairs anymore."

"Thank you."

They gathered the items from the table and piled them on the tray. He escorted Cally to the lift.

"Until tomorrow then, Cally."

She nodded.

As the lift doors closed, Cally realized that he still had not told her the name of the woman.

* * *

"How are you doing up there, Vila?" Jenna asked over the _Justice_'_s_ vidscreen.

"It's been _very_ exciting," said Vila.

"Really?"

"No. Not really. Don't tell me, Argus is unavailable again?"

"Yes. He reported in again saying that he is still busy with Borel Reve's group. And probably will be for awhile."

"Do you have anything for me to do?"

"You're volunteering, Vila? You must really be bored."

"Well, it's nice to be wanted sometimes." _People used to want me to do things._

"Are you sure you're alright?" asked Jenna.

"Yes, I'm alright. Same time? In three days?" he asked.

"Yes. Jenna out."

The vidscreen went black.

"Alright Zen," said Vila tiredly. "Go back to where we were before. Standard by six."

"Confirmed."

_They are not sure they can rely on you_, said the Avon-voice. _That is why they are not including you._

Vila had been having regular conversations with the Avon-voice. It insulted him regularly. It was like having the old Avon with him. He could almost forget the Avon who had abandoned him.


	13. Chapter 13

**New Patterns and Old Friends: Playing Dangerous Games**

Chapter Thirteen

"Borel is becoming a real threat again," said Olean Rane. "Thanks to Argus. I don't know what he's done but he seems to have been very effective."

"The rebel alliance was very fortunate when he joined us," said Jenna. "Especially after we lost Blake."

Jenna and Rane were discussing strategy and Cally's progress with Kameron Reve. They were in Rane's office in the Athol Palace.

"Are Kam's forces still not doing anything?" Jenna asked.

"Still no action from them. I don't expect that to last for long. My security people report that several of the Families are threatening to pull out. They'll most likely join Ellis," said Rane.

"If they do that, then it won't matter about Borel. He won't stand a chance. He'll be hopelessly outnumbered," said Jenna in a concerned voice.

"How is Cally doing? Has she been able to find out anything?" asked Rane.

"Not yet. But she is very well situated now. Kam is starting to trust her."

"Hopefully she'll be able to find out something useful before it's too late. We need Borel to hold out until then. Would Argus risk the _Justice_ in order to help us?"

"I will discuss it with him on our next communication."

* * *

Borel sighed. Argus and his sister were heading off-planet again. They were following a lead.

The young general had hoped that locking them in a room together, would help them resolve their differences; and force them to face the truth about each other. Instead they had called a truce. There had been no resolution; only a mutual cessation of hostilities.

He was wise enough to realize that he couldn't force them any more. They had to resolve this on their own.

_Both of you are too proud for your own good. And too strong-willed._

He sighed again and turned his attention to his next military strategy. The forces currently waiting at the embarkation zones were ready to be deployed.

* * *

"You have a very inflated opinion of yourself, don't you?" remarked Reya. Her voice was sarcastic and hard.

"Are you done now?" Argus's voice was equally sarcastic.

Since the blow-up in Borel's office and the subsequent truce, they had been supremely polite to each other. It had been getting on both their nerves. They really did not know what to do with each other when their relationship was not adversarial.

This return to the insults and verbal battling was more familiar.

"You are not going down there alone," Reya told him.

"I don't need an escort."

They were both in Argus's cabin aboard their command cruiser. Arguing on the flight deck in front of the crew was something they avoided.

"Doing this only proves to me that you're stupid, not courageous."

"Is that why you think I'm doing this? Because of what you said?" His voice had turned cold. Argus was refering to the accusation she made during their blow-up; that he was not willing to take risks and thus showed a lack of courage.

_Oh no_, thought Reya. _How did we end up at this?_

The hurtful words they had said to each other that day were still a barrier between them. It made it easy for a simple argument to deteriorate into a pitched battle. Being abnormally polite to each other had prevented this so far.

"I think we need to stop before we say more things we will both regret," she told him.

"Don't patronize me." His voice was still cold.

"Argus."

Reya realized that she had gone too far that day when she brought up Zircaster. It had been very unfair of her. For some reason, he brought out the worst in her when they were confronting each other. She had to be careful of that; she did not want to make things worse.

Even though she had been the one who said the words which had made things impossible between them; Reya found that she couldn't apologize to him. She had never apologized to anyone before. And she knew that he would only see it as more patronizing.

"If we continue this, it will only end badly; for both of us. I am willing to back down. I will not insist that you bring a unit down with you. But would you let me accompany you?" Her voice had lost its hard edge. She was trying.

Argus looked at her with suspicion. This attitude from her was something unfamiliar. But he was not an unreasonable man. If she was willing to make a concession, so was he.

"Do you think that's a good idea? The two of us?" he asked.

"I will behave myself, if you will," she offered. "Argus, we have to learn to work together again eventually. Borel needs us. No one else can do what we do."

"You're right," he conceded. He smiled wryly, "We're good aren't we?"

"No one could accuse us of being modest about our abilities." She also gave him a self-mocking smile.

They looked into each others' eyes; each was looking for something. It was the first time they had done this since the big fight which had almost torn them apart.

"You don't hate me?" she asked; not seeing what she had been afraid of.

"I could never do that," said Argus; seeing a glimpse of something he had not noticed before.

* * *

Argus and Reya took a shuttle down to Abalar, one of four agricultural planets in quadrant two. They were following a lead which had indicated that Ellis was planning to interrupt one of Borel's major food supplies.

They landed the shuttle in a clearing. Reya took out a perimeter sensor from her satchel and took readings. Argus set his directional locator to coordinates their contact had given them.

"Anything?" Argus asked Reya.

"Nothing."

"You see, there was nothing to worry about. Ellis is not interested in this planet. Alabar is the lesser of the four. That's probably why our source picked here to meet. It makes sense that Ellis would disrupt the major producers. There is not much point in him bothering with Alabar.

"I still don't like it," Reya told him.

"When did you become overly cautious? Isn't that what you accused me of?"

Reya looked at him. She was not going to be baited. "Are we ready to go?"

"Let's go."

They both moved swiftly through the forest.

'It's up ahead," Argus pointed out as they neared the location of the meeting. They slowed down to a walk. Their senses were sharp; taking in the surroundings and watching for any signs of danger. A man up ahead waved in their direction. Argus waved back.

"Argus," Reya whispered to her partner as they walked towards the man. Her voice held a warning.

"Yes, I can feel it too," he whispered back. They were being watched. Almost as one, they discreetly loosened the catches on their holsters. "It's too late, they've seen us already. We'll have to go ahead."

The man they were meeting wore the brown and tan tunic, dark brown trousers and muddy boots common among the farmers on Alabar. He had an open and friendly face and a jovial manner.

"You're Kolter?" asked the man.

Argus had been using that as a codename. The only ones who knew him as Argus, were Borel and Reya.

"Yes." Argus spoke up. "You're Peck?"

"That's me." The man smiled and extended his hand. Argus shook the man's hand.

Without warning, the man tightened his grip so that Argus could not let go. Argus acted on instinct and followed the man's motion, pushing his hand forward and pressed against the man's chest, causing him to fall back. Argus grabbed the man's other hand; which had been prepared to stab him with a needle.

"Reya."

He didn't need to give a warning. His partner already had her phase pistol out and was sweeping the area.

Argus gave a quick twist and the man stabbed himself with the needle. Before the man fell to the ground, the rebel leader had his pistol out as well.

At that moment, the woods became a hive of activity as numerous soldiers came out from various hiding places, weapons already drawn.

Argus and Reya took cover and started firing.

"Are you going to say, I told you so?" asked Argus as he brought down a man who had been trying to sneak around behind them.

"I'll save it for later," Reya told him.

"I count fifteen."

"And five dead," said Reya. "Make that six." As she brought down another one. "They probably have our shuttle."

"Most likely. This was a well-laid trap. They didn't even show up on your perimeter sensors." Argus had a suspicion.

"Well, what do you propose we do?" Reya asked.

"Do you want to insult me first?" asked Argus. He shot a heavy branch overhead, causing it to crash down and knock out one of their well-hidden opponents.

"Why?" Reya asked distractedly as another man fell to her marksmanship.

"So you can get it out of the way before I make my suggestion."

"We're a little busy now. I think the insults can wait until later."

Some sense caused them both to roll quickly and fired behind. A group had suddenly appeared behind them. Four of them instantly went down from their shots. Argus faced forward again as Reya continued to cover their backs.

"That makes an additional ten. With four dead," Argus noted. "The others are keeping their heads down."

"This is going to take forever," said Reya. "All they have to do is wear down our charges. Unless we attack them first."

"You're kidding, right? Maybe _I_ should insult _you_," said Argus.

"Yes, I'm kidding. Well, what's your bright idea?" she asked.

"We set up a distraction and run. Lie low until we can make plans."

"You have an idea for a distraction?"

"You're not going to make any comments about my suggesting of running?" he asked.

"Well, we don't have much of a choice at the moment. And I don't like committing suicide."

"Alright. Set your pistol to wide spread and change the energy frequency for heat."

"You want to set some fires?"

"Yes. We should be able to create sufficient smoke with these trees and the ground brush to cover our escape. If we can direct the fire we should be able to block most of them from following us right away. And if we're really lucky it might even be able to obliterate some of our tracks. We just have to make sure we're not overcome by the smoke."

Reya nodded. The both set their phase pistols.

Argus's plan worked perfectly. They both escaped the trap laid for them. Unfortunately they didn't get away unscathed. Argus was shot in the right shoulder as he covered their retreat.


	14. Chapter 14

**New Patterns and Old Friends: Playing Dangerous Games**

Chapter Fourteen

The next morning, Avon and Servalan were having breakfast together. They were still in her bedroom, sitting on the couches on the far end of the room.

"You are very hungry this morning," remarked Servalan as Avon finished off the food on his plate.

"We did expend a lot of energy last night."

"Yes we did." She smiled at the memory. "How would you like to rest today?"

"No."

"You don't like being in that cell, do you?" Servalan had watched Avon during his rest periods back at the Special Detention Centre. She knew that they were driving him crazy. It was part of Sester's strategy.

"Would you?" he asked.

"How would you like to stay here, with me? For a few days."

He looked at her suspiciously. "What are you after, Servalan?"

"I have spent an exhausting trip out to the outer planets and it's time for me to take a break. I would like you with me."

_So that is why you have been away,_ thought Avon. _It wasn't part of the psychostrategist's plan._

"You want more of last night." He remarked.

"That is part of it." _And I enjoy your company, _Servalan thought to herself.

"You had better order more food from the kitchens then."

_Well, at least it will give me an opportunity to work on you, _Avon thought._ There are certain things I need. _

They had kept him isolated in his work at the lab since the phase-TD engine group. They didn't trust him working with another group again.

_Maybe I can get you to change that.

* * *

_

"How are you doing, Argus?" Reya asked. They had been running almost nonstop since escaping the trap. They had only stopped long enough to put a dressing over Argus's wound so that it would not leave a blood trail. She wanted to support him but he had refused her help.

Reya noticed that he was starting to lag behind. He had stumbled a couple of times in the past hour.

"I need to rest," Argus said. His voice was weak, he was sweating profusesly and his face was pale.

_You must be bad if you're admitting that_, thought Reya. She was concerned about him; but she would not insult him by drawing attention to something he would regard as an admission of weakness.

"Alright. I'll scout back and see if I can spot our friends."

"See if you can find some water," he told her. She nodded. Argus sat down with his back against a tree.

"Don't fall asleep," she warned him.

"I know."

Reya went off quietly.

"Reya," he called out to her.

She turned around and came back.

"Don't leave any tracks. Those men back there. I think they're Federation commandos."

"How do you know that?"

"That trick. Fooling the perimeter sensors. I recognize it. There are not many with that kind of discipline. None in your Territories." Argus spoke in short sentences. He sounded like he was out of breath.

"So they're helping Ellis. No wonder he's become so powerful."

"Be careful."

"I will."

She headed off again.

Argus leaned back against the tree and tried to rest. He didn't even have the energy to check on his shoulder wound.

_Can't close my eyes. Have to keep awake.

* * *

_

"You still haven't told me her name," Cally told Kameron Reve as they shared another meal together.

She had been working up in Kam's room for the past week; serving him his meals and generally keeping him company. She was getting a much better picture of this man. He was hard and ruthless when he was working. When he spoke with her, he was very different; he was polite, gentle and considerate. He was like two entirely different people.

He often talked to her about the woman he loved. The most important thing Cally had found out about her was that she was still very much alive.

But there were still three things she had not been able to find out; her name, where she was now and how or why she had disappeared.

There had been no more calls which caused the kind of anger she had before.

"No, I haven't."

"Is there a reason why?"

Kam looked at her but didn't answer. After a few moments, he sighed. "There isn't really a good reason. Just a foolish one. Her name is Galena."

"That's a beautiful name."

"She's a beautiful person. One day, I hope the two of you can meet. I think you would like her."

"What happened to her?"

"That's something I can't tell you."

"But she's still alive."

"Yes."

Cally made an important decision. In her last covert meeting with Jenna, it had been made clear to her that time was running out. Cally knew that Kameron Reve had felt increasingly helpless and frustrated over the past week. He had reached a block and he felt he had no options left. Lately the vidscreen calls had become much fewer. Kam was feeling isolated and was isolating himself. Cally decided that she had enough information to guess what was going on.

"Ellis Reve took her, didn't he?"

Kameron Reve looked at her sharply. Cally could tell that he was instantly guarded and suspicious. He was about to signal for the guard.

"I'm here to help you," she said quickly.

He hesitated.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"My name is Cally, as I have told you. The part you do not know is that Olean Rane sent me."

"Rane? My father's chamberlain?"

"Yes."

"Why did he send you?"

Cally was committed to this now. She decided to tell the truth.

"He was concerned that you are sitting back and watching Ellis destroy your brother."

Kam laughed. "And he doesn't want Ellis to become Overlord? I don't blame him."

"Did Ellis take her?"

"That is my problem. Not his and not yours," Kam said. His voice had taken on a hardness that he had never had before with her.

"I am offering my help."

"I don't need it."

Cally could also be hard when she needed to be.

"Yes, you do. Otherwise, Ellis would not still have her. Let me help you. Let us help you. You know you have run out of options."

She could sense the strong emotions playing across his consciousness, the foremost of which was anger.

Cally knew there was one thing which would make him consider their help. " Would you let your pride get in the way of rescuing Galena? Would you leave her under Ellis's power because you could not accept someone else's help? What do your instincts tell you about me?"

Kam stared at her. She looked so serious and sincere. He did not understand why but he realized that he did trust her. And if Olean Rane was willing to help him…

He started laughing. "You really are very much like her. Alright, what do you think you can do that I can't?"

* * *

Someone kicked Argus in the stomach. The blow and the pain woke him. Despite his best efforts, he had not been able to stay awake after Reya left. He brought his hands up to protect himself as the same someone kicked him again. Only his left hand obeyed him. Because of his injured right shoulder, he could no longer raise his right arm.

"He's awake now," the soldier who had kicked him reported to a lieutenant.

Argus groaned. The second kick had been against his injured shoulder.

_Reya, where are you?_

Argus looked around. He was surrounded by soldiers. These ones wore the same uniforms as the ones who set the trap; but their shoulder patches showed that they were not the same ones.

Two of the soldiers grabbed his arms and pulled him up. Argus tried not to cry out as they yanked on his injured shoulder.

"Where is the other one?" the lieutenant asked him.

"I don't know who you're talking about," Argus told the man.

_At least they didn't get you, _thought Argus_. Stay away, Reya._

The lieutenant nodded to a soldier who was standing beside him. The man stepped forward and punched Argus in the jaw.

"Tell me who sent you." The lieutenant asked.

Argus said, "No one sent me. I'm here for my health."

The soldier began to strike him repeatedly to the face and to the body until Argus hung limp in the grip of the ones holding him up. The man struck one more time, this time against the injured right shoulder. Argus cried out in pain and nearly passed out.

Another soldier approached the lieutenant. "There are no tracks sir."

The lieutenant lifted Argus's head. The rebel leader's face was ashen. His face was bloodied and swollen.

"I know there are two of you. Tell me where the other one went."

"Your information must be wrong," gasped Argus. "I'm alone."

They continued to work on him and he stubbornly refused to tell them where Reya was or who had sent him. As he finally lapsed into unconsciousness he could hear the lieutenant speaking.

"Get the medtech. We can't let this one die. Tace wants to question him."


	15. Chapter 15

**New Patterns and Old Friends: Playing Dangerous Games**

Chapter Fifteen

From her concealed position, Reya had watched as the soldiers beat Argus until he was no longer conscious.

_Damn it Argus, tell them something_, Reya had thought. _You don't really know where I am. You only know the direction I took. Tell them a different direction._

She wanted to rush in and kill all of them. But she was too good to act on emotion. Reya waited. And she planned. She had a good layout of the camp. It looked like the soldiers would at least stay the night. Off to the side were their vehicles. She would have to steal one of them in order to get away; and disable the others.

Reya checked her pulse gun. The charge was low. She would have to obtain another weapon. She would not be able to make any other plans until she knew what they were going to do with Argus during the night; and how many guards would be in the vicinity.

There was one positive thing. The soldiers had allowed a medtech to attend to Argus's injuries and especially his shoulder wound. That meant that she might not have to carry him. Having to carrying him would decrease their chances considerably.

There was one additional thing she had to do in preparation for the rescue tonight. They needed a way to get off the planet and back to their orbiting command cruiser.

* * *

"The commando unit reports that they have captured one of them," psychostrategist Tace told Sester. Tace was appearing on Sester's vidscreen in his office at the Special Detention Centre. "They're looking for the other one now."

"Good. We will finally find out who else is interested in causing trouble in this sector. Have you found out anything about the other force at work?"

"Unfortunately no. There are still no indicators. Ellis is getting ready to make a big move against Borel. He wants to neutralize his forces before Borel can regain control over all of them."

"We don't want that yet."

"Agreed. Ellis is much too powerful right now."

" When is he making the move?" Sester asked. His mind was already beginning to form a plan which would include the new piece available to them.

"He's gathering his forces now. It should take another three weeks for them to be in position."

"Let the one you have captured escape. But don't make it too easy. From what you reported, he's good. He would be suspicious if you made it too easy."

"Sester?"

"But put a tracer on him first. We don't know who he is yet but as long as we can track him, we can pull him in at anytime and we can watch him. Right now he is much more useful for us, helping Borel."

"I do believe you are getting more devious, Sester," Tace remarked.

_I have Avon to thank for that_, thought Sester. Working on Avon had increased the level of Sester's own game.

"Send the commando units to disrupt Ellis. Target his communications arrays and supply lanes. Slow him down as much as possible but they must be discreet. Ellis must never find out we are working against him now."

"Very well. Should we bring Kameron Reve back in?"

"No. It will be too difficult to control the situation with him back in the mix. Leave him where he is now. We can always arrange to bring him back in if Borel runs into too much trouble. Has Ellis left the woman alone?"

"Yes. You were right. There is also something between him and the woman. He will not harm her."

"With your prisoner helping Borel and the actions of the commando units against Ellis, we should be able to reduce Ellis's strength. At least until we are able to find out more about the force helping him."

"Very well."

"Sester, out."

* * *

Avon and Servalan were sitting side-by-side on a bench by the lake in the Residence gardens. It was the middle of the afternoon. They had been taking walks out in the garden after their afternoon meal. They had spent three days together. Between them had been peace and sometimes even laughter.

Avon's hands were shackled behind him. Servalan still did not allow him to leave the building without the restraints and the incapacitating drug. Her head nestled against his shoulder.

She had a sense of serenity. Lying against Avon's shoulder made her feel safe and comfortable. Because she had full power over him, she could allow herself the luxury of these feelings.

Servalan reviewed the last three days they had spent together resting. She enjoyed provoking him in fun but there had been no desire to hurt him. This had surprised her. He bristled at her control at times but he had generally cooperated in this exercise in rest. She had always enjoyed hurting and using him in the past. But she found that just having control over him was enough; because she knew he hated it.

All of his life, people tried to use Avon. This was something Servalan had in common with him; it gave them a certain kinship. But in her case, she sought the one thing which prevented people from doing it to her successfully. Power.

She had tried it first with Kasabi. The power to destroy someone who sought to destroy her gave Servalan something she had never realized she needed before; the ability to control her own destiny. After Don Keller, it had become an obsession. It also prevented people from ever hurting her again.

But power did not fill the void inside her; that aching emptiness which Don Keller had filled. In this Servalan also felt a kinship to Avon. When Avon had found out that Anna Grant had betrayed him, she had seen the look of hurt and betrayal in his eyes; as if Anna had ripped out an essential part of him.

She had felt that loss as well; that sense of betrayal when Don Keller had abandoned her for his research. It felt as if he had torn out her heart. She had completely cut herself off from human relationships then and sought power; the one thing which would not betray her.

That was why she had wanted to grant Avon's desire for death as he knelt over the dead body of his lover. After he had accidently escaped, she continued to seek him out; to destroy him. But at the same time she knew that she would miss him if she succeeded.

She had tried to kill him then, because they were enemies; and he was dangerous to her. She had not understood it then; the reason why she wanted him; and at the same time she kept trying to kill him. Now that he was in her power and she could hurt him whenever she wanted, she understood. She could want him now without fear that he could hurt her and he would never be able to leave her.

Avon sighed. Servalan raised her head and looked at him. There was a sadness to him which tugged at her heart.

"Why the sigh, Avon?"

"I do not want to come out here anymore."

"Why?" Servalan sat up and turned towards him.

"It is too difficult. You want to pretend but for me it is just a cruel joke."

There was no emotion in his voice or any expression on his face; but it still conveyed such sadness that she wanted to put her arms around him and hug him. But she didn't. She knew he would hate it. He hated pity. It was not the time to exert her control over him.

He continued, "I miss the days on the Liberator. They used me. But I used them as well. Here the only one being used is me. I hate being powerless and alone. You will not even let me die."

It was the first time he had shared anything with her, about himself. There was a naked honesty about him which drew her to him.

_Could we really have a different relationship within these guidelines? _wondered Servalan. _Maybe your cooperation is real. _Part of her wanted it to be true.

She wondered if she was fooling herself; wondered if the desire for someone she could feel at ease with was clouding her perceptions of Avon.

They finally had the best of both worlds with him. He had given up fighting them but at the same time he hated his imprisonment and would always try to find a way to be free. That meant that his mind stayed sharp and this made him very useful; but it also meant that it would always be terrible for him.

She regretted this necessity.

He looked into her eyes and asked, "When you are finally finished with me, can you kill me? Do not leave me on some prison planet. Don't let the madness claim me."

"No, Avon."

"You will not even do that?"

"I can never let you go, Avon. I will always need you."

He looked away from her and stared out over the lake. She could almost feel the depth of his sadness.

In that instant, Servalan understood why Sester had insisted on the new guidelines. As long as Avon was a prisoner, the depression would always return. The agreements may prevent him from trying to kill himself now, but eventually they would no longer be enough. When Avon decided to end his own life, Servalan doubted they would be able to stop him; short of keeping him so incapacitated that he would become useless to them.

_How can I make it better for you, Avon? _Wondered Servalan. He may fill a need in her but she realized that this man, who needed to be free, was slowly dying inside. They would never be able to stop that but perhaps they could slow it down.

* * *

Vila put a glass up to the dispenser and prepared to fill it.

_When did you finish the bottles in my room, Vila? _Vila could clearly hear Argus's voice. He almost dropped the glass.

"Oh no!"said Vila. "Not your voice too! This is just not fair."

Vila lifted the glass to the spout again.

Again Argus's voice sounded in his head, _When did you finish the bottles in my room, Vila?_

_This is worse than having Avon's voice_, thought Vila. He tried it once again. This time, the first splash of liquid hit the bottom of the glass before he heard the voice again.

_When did you finish the bottles in my room, Vila?_

Vila stopped. He did not remember finishing the bottles. The thief put the almost empty glass down on the table. He closed his eyes and tried to remember.

_You're useless,_ the Avon-voice insulted him again.

"I am not!" protested Vila.

_Then why can you not remember?_

"There's a medical term for this condition. I can't remember what it is."

_Senility?_

_It's not fair! You're both ganging up on me! _Though Vila.


	16. Chapter 16

**New Patterns and Old Friends: Playing Dangerous Games**

Chapter Sixteen

"Professor Tarkson says that it is to be expected," said Sester. He was meeting with Servalan the day after Avon was returned to the Special Detention Centre. "It is a normal effect of the prolonged periods of torture. It leaves deep psychological scars. And we have been constantly breaking him down. And no matter what what we do, the fact remains that he will always be a prisoner and you will continue to use him."

"So even your guidelines will not help?" Servalan asked.

"They have achieved what we wanted. He has become much less difficult to handle. And he knows now that cooperation can lead to a different set of circumstances for him."

"He is still not accepting it."

"Not yet. But eventually he will have to accept that this is all he has. And we will make it as comfortable as possible for him."

"Speaking of making things comfortable. There are some things I would like to do for him."

"Such as?"

"He is feeling very isolated. I want to allow him to work with a team again. But this time we will be much more careful."

"That may be useful. We know he is planning something. We may be able to find out more about what it is, by observing how he reacts to this new development. Can you include Professor Ekron on this team?"

"Why? Ekron had his memory wiped and new memories implanted. He will not remember working with Avon."

"I know. It will be very educational for our friend to know what happens to people who help him."

"Your level of cruelty is beginning to rival mine."

"I will take that as a compliment," said Sester, a smile playing on his lips.

"I also want to remove the restraints."

Sester looked at her carefully. _My strategy may have worked too well on you_, he thought.

"Let's do it in stages," he told her. "We will not require them when he is in his cell. It is not a good idea to give him so much all at once. We should also restore the conversation sessions. It will help us gauge his mental status."

"Very well. One last thing, Sester."

"You want to give him something else?" Sester asked. _Yes, it has worked too well._

"Not him. You."

"You want to give me something?" he asked with a puzzled tone.

"A warning. Do not try to manipulate me again," her voice was cold. "If you do, I may just decide that you are too dangerous."

Servalan did not say anything else. She didn't need to.

* * *

The lieutenant and the soldiers worked on Argus well into the night. They stopped asking him about Reya. They only wanted to know who he worked for. They were very creative. Despite his best efforts, Argus could not help screaming. But he was proving to be more stubborn than they expected.

They finally dragged his limp body out to a large tree, bound his hands behind him then using another longer rope tied his wrists.The other end was thrown over a strong overhanging branch and they yanked on the rope, pulling him up. He screamed. It felt like his arms were being twisted out of their sockets. The pain was excruciating. He moaned in agony.

"Let's see how cooperative you are if we leave you hanging there until tomorrow morning," the lieutenant told him. They left him to the pain. A single guard was left to watch over him.

Argus found that if he stayed as still as possible, the pain was slightly less than unbearable. He grit hs teeth and fought to remain silent. At first he tightened his muscles in order to reduce the angle of pressure but he couldn't keep it up for long. His muscles began to spasm and that made the pain worse. The bored guard would occasionally strike his legs with the butt of his rifle, causing him to swing and producing more pain. He could feel that his shoulder was starting to bleed again.

_I'm going to make you pay for that_, thought Argus as the soldier sent him swinging again. Argus moaned.

The soldier suddenly fell to the ground. Dead.

"Argus." Someone whispered his name. Argus looked up. It was Reya.

_You're beautiful_, thought Argus. He tried to smile but it looked more like a lop-sided scowl.

"What took you so long?" His voice was a weak whisper.

"Do you think you can stop making all that noise when I lower you to the ground?"

"What noise?" he asked.

"Here bite down on this." She shoved a large piece of wood into his mouth.

Holding onto the rope with one hand, she cut the rope with a knife. She slowly lowered him to the ground. He groaned and nearly passed out but biting down on the piece of wood did help prevent him from screaming from the pain.

Argus spit out the piece of wood and lay panting on the ground. Reya went behind him and cut the ropes binding him, trying to be gentle.

"Next time could you find something that doesn't taste like its been rotting for five days?" he asked her as she helped him up. Concentrating on talking helped take his attention away from the agony in his shoulders.

"Do you want me to string you back up?"

"I don't mind hanging around if you don't."

"That's very bad," Reya remarked on his feeble attempt at humour as she helped him towards the vehicle she had prepared. She had already disabled the few perimeter guards and the remaining vehicles.

"You're a critic too now?" He whispered as he stumbled. She held onto him to stop him from falling. Argus groaned.

"Can you stop with the not-so-witty remarks and concentrate on walking? At least until I get you into the vehicle?"

Argus nodded. He knew he didn't have much strength left. Putting one foot in front of the other was fast becoming a task that was beyond him. He leaned heavily against Reya. Feeling her arms around him lent him energy; but by the time he climbed into the seat of the air-car, he was barely conscious.

His next awareness was of Reya trying to shake him awake. Pain from his torn shoulder muscles and the earlier wound made concentrating difficult. He could barely think. His mind seemed fuzzy. He realized he was suffering from shock.

"Argus, get up. We have to get you into the shuttle," Reya told him.

"Shuttle. Trap. Soldiers," he could barely manage anything more than single words. He wasn't sure that he actually spoke.

She helped him out of the car and led him to the shuttle. He pulled against her, trying to stop from moving towards the shuttle. His struggle barely had any affect and only caused himself pain. He groaned.

"Trap," he tried to tell her but only managed a babbling sound.

"I have no idea what you're trying to say," Reya told him as she continued to propel him forward. As they neared the shuttle access hatch, Argus noticed there were no guards.

Realizing what he must be thinking, she told him, "They did have guards posted but I took care of them earlier."

Argus looked at her appreciatively. "You're wonderful," his befuddled mind tried to tell her. But her lack of reaction told him he was still being incoherent.

She strapped him into the seat next to her and prepared the shuttle for take off. His mind was drifting in and out of consciousness as he sat next to her. Argus found himself having some strange thoughts. He could hear Reya contact the command cruiser using the shuttle's comm. Argus looked over at her. She seemed to be glowing. _You look so beautiful, _he thought as he finally passed out.

* * *

"Jenna," Kameron Reve acknowledged the ex-smuggler as she entered his room on the tenth floor.

"Kameron."

"I should have realized that you were behind this. You were always devious," said Kam. "Although I am surprised at you, Cally. I would not have expected this from you."

"I'm sorry, but we did not think you would accept our help if we did not do it this way," Cally apologized.

"I don't blame you," Kam told her.

"You can blame me," Jenna asked.

"I blame my dear brother," said Kam. It is not surprising that whenever anyone spoke of the nefarious deeds of one of the Reve brothers, no one bothered to indicate which one. Everyone knew.

"Tell us what happened," Jenna told him.

Kameron waved them over to the couches on the far side of the room. After they all sat down, Kam began to explain.

"I was supposed to meet Galena here. After her shift. She never showed up. There was no sign of her anywhere. I waited here. For days. I put all of my security forces on it. But no one saw anything. Five days later, when I was about to tear apart this town looking for her, my brother contacted me. He had taken her. Right from under my nose. He threatened to kill her if I didn't stop my bid to become overlord."

"You've been waiting here ever since, haven't you?" Cally realized. "That is why you do not leave this room."

Kameron looked at her. She understood him.

"I would never have thought it of you, Kameron," said Jenna. "Becoming overlord after your father was your greatest ambition. You were prepared to do anything for that chance."

"I would never have thought that either. Not until I met her."

_It's hard to believe. You were always overly ambitious and ruthless,_ thought Jenna.

But she noticed that whenever he talked about Galena, his voice changed and became softer. _She must be quite a woman, _thought Jenna_. And she must be a miracle worker to be able to change someone like you._

"Were your security forces able to find out where he is holding her?" Cally asked.

"No. But they know she is on Ventro." Ventro was a planet in quadrant nine where Ellis had his base.

"You know that some of your most powerful supporters are threatening to pull out and join Ellis?" Jenna informed him.

"Yes, I've been trying to convince them not to. I have tried to tell them that my plans require that we wait."

"They don't know about Galena?" Jenna asked.

Kam laughed. "I may be a fool for love but I'm not a fool. Can you imagine what they would do if they found out the real reason?"

"They would all be in Ellis's camp by now," said Jenna.

"Exactly. But they are moving that way now anyways. It is hard to convince people when you cannot explain to them why."

"It does not help that you have also given up," said Cally.

Kam looked at her sharply. Having someone who knew him as well as Galena was proving to be uncomfortable.

"You know that Ellis is about to make a big move against Borel?" asked Jenna.

"Yes, I may be out of the picture. But I am not out of touch."

"What if Cally and I rescue Galena for you? Would you bring your forces against Ellis?"

"I tried that at the beginning. Sent one of my best units in to rescue her. They failed. Ellis threatened to send me a piece of her the next time I tried. I didn't dare try it again. That is why I did not want anyone's help. I did not want anyone bumbling in and getting her killed."

"But you're willing to listen to us now?" Cally asked. "Why?"

"Your ship. You have capabilities no one has. If anyone can rescue her and not get her killed; I believe your group can."

"You really are not a fool," Jenna remarked.

"But understand this. I will not lift a hand to help Borel until Galena is rescued. Until then, he is on his own," he told them. His voice had a hard determination. "I will contact the Families again and make preparations. But that is all. The day Galena walks through my door again, is the day I will move against Ellis."

Jenna realized that this was the best they could expect from Kameron Reve. The next move was hers and Cally's. And Vila's.

* * *

Servalan was sleeping in Avon's arms. She had spent an exhausting and frustrating day dealing with some of the top admiral's from Space Command. The Federation President needed to spend some time with someone who could stand up to her but could not harm her. She had sent for Avon. Servalan had been doing that a lot lately.

Avon sighed. His arm was feeling uncomfortable where she lay against him; but he didn't want to wake her. And she had forgotten to give him the sedatives again. After their passion, she had been so tired that she had fallen asleep.

Since the three days when Servalan had brought him back from a dangerous depression, their physical relationship had changed. He had to admit that he found it pleasurable as well. They had both known this was possible even when they sought to kill each other over the years.

_This does not change anything, Servalan_, thought Avon. With his free hand he gently touched her face. In sleep, the sharpness in her face disappeared. She looked peaceful. Content. Servalan murmured in her sleep and held him tighter.

_You do not look like the devious snake I know you are,_ he thought.

Servalan had convinced Sester that they should allow Avon to work with a team again. The day by the lake, he had played her very well.


End file.
